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THE  UNIVERSITY  OF 

NORTH  CAROLINA 

LIBRARY 


THE  WILMER  COLLECTION 

OF  CIVIL  WAR  NOVELS 

PRESENTED  BY 

RICHARD  H.  WILMER,  JR. 


A.  F.  Hill's  Popular  Works. 


OUR  BOYS;  OR,  THE  PERSONAL  EXPERIENCES  OF 

the  Author  while  in  the  Army.     Embracing  some  of  the  richest  and 

raciest  scenes   of  Army  and  Camp  Life  ever  published.     By  A.  F. 

Hill,  of   the  Eighth   Pennsylvania  Reserves.      With   illustrations. 

12mo.     Cloth,  price  $1.75. 

"It  is  cne  of  the  liveliest  and  most  graphic  books  of  the  war  that  has  ap- 
peared, and  has  the  advantage  of  being  true."— Boston  Gazette. 

THE  WHITE  ROCKS;  OR,  THE  ROBBERS  OF  THE 

Monongahela.  A  thrilling  story  of  Outlaw  Life  in  Western  Pennsyl- 
vania. By  A.  F.  Hill,  author  of  u  Our  Boys,"  jetc,  etc.  12mo.  Cloth, 
price  $1.75. 

"  The  imagination  is  led  captive  from  chapter  to  chapter,  from  the  introduo- 
tion  to  the  conclusion." — Philadelphia  Mercury. 

JOHN  SMITH'S  FUNNY  ADVENTURES  ON  A  CRUTCH  ; 

Or,  the  Remarkable  Peregrinations  of  a  One-legged  Soldier,  after  the 
War.  By  A.  F.  Hill.  With  characteristic  illustrations.  12mo. 
Cloth,  price  $1.75. 

Full  descriptive  Catalogues,  of  these  and  other  works  of  ours,  furnished 
free  on  application,  and  books  sent,  post-paid,  to  any  address  on  receipt 
of  price.  Address, 

JOHNE.  POTTER  &  CO.,  Publishers. 

ffos.  614  &  617  Sansom  Street, 

PHILADELPHIA, 


John     Smith's 
f  ¥WJ 

flD  VENTURES      pN      j>L      j^RUTCH, 


OB  THB 


JIemarkable  Peregrinations   of   a    One- 
legged   ^OLDIER    AFTER    THE    WaR^ 


BY 


A.    F.    HILL, 

AUTHOB      OF      «OUR      BOYS,     OB     ADVENTURES     IN     THE      ABMT 
THE      WHITE      ROCKS,     OR    THE     ROBBERS      Ot 
THE    MONONGAHELA,"    ETC.,    ETC. 


ITH     ILLUSTRATIONS. 


PHILADELPHIA: 

JOHN    E.    POTTER    AND    COMPANY, 

*«•    «U    SANSOM    STREET. 


n 


Entered  according  to  Act  of  Congress,  in  the  year  1869,  by 

A.    F.    HILL, 

Ii  the  Clerk's  Office  of  the  District  Court  of  the  United  States,  in  and  for  the 
Eastern  District  of  Pennsylvania. 


JpWLrtDELRttlA^ 


TO  THE 

M  E  M  O  B  Y 
op 

AETEMUS    ¥AED, 

WHOM   THE   WORLD  OWES   FOR   A   THOUSAND 
HAPPY  SMILES, 

THIS  "WORK    IS    FRATERNALLY 

DEDICATED 


BY 


THE    AUTHOR. 


PREFACE, 


It  is  verily  more  difficult  to  write  a  good  pre- 
face for  a  book  than  to  write  the  book  itself. 
We  don't  mind  telling  the  reader,  very  confiden- 
tially, that  this  is  not,  by  any  means,  our  first 
effort  at  a  preface  for  this  work :  and  we  earn- 
estly hope  that  the  public  will  not  pronounce 
this  ninth  one  so  stupid  as  we  deemed  the  eight 
preceding  ones  that  we  tore  up. 

It  will  be  perceived  that  our  hero  bears  the 
historic  name  of  John  Smith.  Original  old  John 
Smith,  the  Virginia  settler,  met  with  many 
adventures — some  of  them  funny  and  others 
not  so  funny — among  the  latter  was  the  affair 
with  Miss  Pocahontas  and  her  stern  old  parent : 
and  we  claim,  for  our  own  John  Smith,  as  many 
adventures  as  his  illustrious  namesake — some 
of  them  quite  as  funny  and  others  funnier. 

0) 


8  PREFACE. 

Nothing  in  this  narrative  of  real  incidents  is 
at  all  calculated  to  reflect  on  the  excellent 
character  of  Mr.  Smith :  and  this  is  because  we 
esteem  him  very  highly  and  not  from  any  dread 
of  the  law ;  for  John  Smith  is  so  multitudinous, 
that  one  could  handle  the  name  with  impunity, 
and  not  incur  any  risk  of  prosecution  for  libeL 
What  would  a  court  say  to  an  action  against  a 
writer  for  libeling  John  Smith,  yeoman ! — espe- 
cially when  the  writer  should  plead  that  he 
never  meant  that  John  Smith,  but  quite  another, 
unknown  to  the  court. 

There  are  those  who  will  shrewdly  guess  that 
the  hero  of  the  narrative  represents  the  author 
himself,  the  chief  grounds  for  such  inference 
being  a  striking  similarity  in  the  number  of 
nether  limbs.  That,  however,  should  scarcely 
be  taken  as  conclusive;  for,  since  "this  cruel 
war  is  over,"  there  are  nearly  as  many  one- 
legged  men  in  the  country  as  there  are  John 
Smiths  ! 

Philadelphia,  January,  1869. 


LONTENTS. 


CHAPTER  I. 
The  Way  it  Happened IS 

CHAPTER  II. 
John's  Adventure  with  a  Crazy  Man <    20 

CHAPTER  III. 
Proposes  to  Leap  from  a  Third-story  "Window....    29 

CHAPTER  IV. 
Locked  up  ! 32 

CHAPTER  V. 
Accommodated  with  a  ' '  Room  Lower  Down.  ' » . . . .    41 

CHAPTER  VI. 
The  way  Smith  gets  Bored. — An  Episode 48 

CHAPTER  VII. 
John  Smith's  Friend 65 

CHAPTER  VIII. 
John  Thought  he  would  lire  to  Travel 69 

CHAPTER  IX. 
Sea-sick.— Ugh  ! 65 

CHAPTER  X. 
The  "Hub." 72 

CHAPTER  XI. 

Narrow  Escape  in  a  row  at  Baltimore 82 

9 


10  CONTENTS. 

CHAPTER  XII. 
How  Smith  Traveled  a-foot— and  more 89 

CHAPTER  XIII. 
Romance  en  John  Smith's  "  Real  Life." 95 

CHAPTER  XIY. 
The  Hudson 102 

CHAPTER  XV. 
John  at  Saratoga 109 

CHAPTER  XVI. 
The  Sail-boat 115 

CHAPTER  XVII. 
Niagara  Falls 123 

CHAPTER  XVIII. 
Cave  of  the  Winds 128 

CHAPTER  XIX. 
Canada 135 

CHAPTER  XX. 
Col.  John  Smith  at  an  Hotel 144 

CHAPTER  XXI. 
Courtesies  of  Travelers 154 

CHAPTER  XXII. 
44  The  City  of  Magnificent  Distances.  " 159 

CHAPTER  XXIII. 
Smith's  Experience  on  a  Skate 166 

CHAPTER  XXIV. 
Over  the  Mountains 172 

CHAPTER  XXV. 
Difficulty  with  the  Owner  of  Pittsburg 177 

CHAPTER  XXVI. 
Peculiarities  of  Travelers 184 


CONTENTS.  11 

CHAPTER  XXVII. 
McCulloch's  Leap 189 

CHAPTER  XXVIII. 
Cincinnati 199 

CHAPTER  XXIX. 
Fall  City  and  Cave  City 205 

CHAPTER  XXX. 
John  Smith's  Absence  from  the  Face  of  the 

Earth 209 

CHAPTER  XXXI. 
The  "  Nightingale.  " 221 

CHAPTER  XXXII. 
Smith's    Extraordinary    Adventures    in   the 

"Mound  City." 234 

CHAPTER  XXXIII. 
How  not  to  open  a  Patent  Lock 243 

CHAPTER  XXXIV. 
A  Game  of  Checkers 250 

CHAPTER  XXXV. 
JonN  in  Chicago 255 

CHAPTER  XXXVI. 
Traveling  Companions 261 

CHAPTER  XXXVII. 
Milwaukee  and  the  Lakes 266 

CHAPTER  XXXVIII. 
Smith  in  Search  of  his  Uncle 274 

CHAPTER  XXXIX. 
Smith's  Knowledge  of  German 281 


12 


CONTENTS. 


CHAPTER  XL. 
"A  Lite  on  the  ocean  wave,  and  a  home  on 

THE  ROLLING  DEEP." 293 

CHAPTER  XLI. 
J.  Smith's  Curiosity  to  see  a  Gale  more  than 

Satisfied 298 

CHAPTER  XLII. 
More  of  the  Dreadful  Sea 211 

CHAPTER  XLIII. 
John  Smith's  End  Imminent 316 

CHAPTER  XLIV. 
Courtesies  at  Sea 322 

CHAPTER  XLV. 
Ho !  for  California  1 328 

CHAPTER  XLYI. 
On  the  Isthmus 337 

CHAPTER  XLVII. 
The  "Golden  City." 341 

CHAPTER  XLYIII. 
The  Doctor 354 

CHAPTER  XLIX. 
A  Startling  Bundle 361 

CHAPTER  L. 
Exit  Smith 372 


John     Smith's 

r>FFT 

Adyentu  i\e  s     On     A     Crutch 


CHAPTER     I. 

The   Way    Tt    Happened. 

/^RACK !   went  a  rifle  at  the  battle  of  Antietam. 

L/  Not  that  it  was  the  only  one  fired,  for  they 
*  were  rattling  away  at  the  rate  of  a  thousand 
per  second  just  then  ;  but  there  was  one  rifle  in  par- 
ticular discharged,  which,  so  far  as  I  was  concerned, 
was  clearly  distinguishable  from  all  the  rest.  I  did 
not  see  it,  nor  am  I  confident  that,  in  the  din  of  battle, 
I  heard  its  report ;  yet  I  was  made  painfully  aware 
of  its  existence  and  proximity,  and  shall  no  doubt 
entertain  a  recollection  of  it  while  life  lasts,  and 
reason  retains  her  throne. 

That  rifle,  evidently  fired  by  some  one  whom  I 
would  have  shot  first,  if  I  had  had  a  good  chance — 
and  therefore  I  couldn't  blame  him  much  for  shooting 
me — threw  a  leaden  ball  of  one  ounce  in  weight,  and 

(13) 


14  JOHN    SMITH    ON    A    CRUTCH. 

similar  to  an  acorn  in  shape;  and  that  missile,  travel- 
ling at  the  rate  of  five  thousand  miles  an  hour — though 
tbey  rarely  travel  a  whole  hour  without  resting — 
struck  and  wounded  me,  John  Smith.  It  passed 
through  the  thigh,  lacerating  that  muscle  vulgarly 
known  as  the  tensor  vagina;  femoris,  and  causing  a 
compound  fracture  of  the  femur,  barely  below  the 
trochanter  major;  that  is  to  say,  it  broke  the  bone 
about  three  inches  below  the  hip. 

The  ball  had  come  diagonally  from  the  direction 
of  my  right  and  front,  passing  through  the  outside 
portion  of  the  left  thigh,  and  coming  out  only  an 
inch  and  a  half  from  where  it  had  entered ;  and  I 
could  not  help,  when  I  had  regained  my  composure, 
making  some  little  geometric  calculations  on  the  sub- 
ject. I  reckoned  that  if  the  man  who  had  fired  the 
rifle — allowing  him  to  have  been  one  hundred  yards 
distant,  and  the  barrel  of  the  piece  to  have  been  four 
feet  long — had  moved  the  muzzle  the  one-hundredth 
part  of  an  inch  to  the  right,  I  should  have  been 
missed ;  if  he  had  elevated  it  about  the  same  distance 
I  should  have  been  missing.  My  next  thought  was 
that  whereas  my  antagonist  had  discharged  his  rifle,  I 
must  request  the  government  to  discharge  me. 

Some  of  my  comrades  carried  me  from  the  field, 
and,  after  a  little  diversion  in  the  way  of  fainting, 
got  me  loaded  into  a  one-horse  ambulance — a  vehicle 
that  can  beat  a  wild-cat  jumping  on  moderately  rough 
ground — and  away  it  went,  plunging  diagonally  across 
a  corn-field,  like  a  schooner  hove  to  in  a  storm.  A 
shattered  limb  is  one  of  the  most  painful  things  in  the 
world,  especially  when  its  owner  is  jostled  about  like 


THE    WAY   IT   HAPPENED.  15 

old  rusty  nails.  For  good,  solid,  substantial  pain,  I 
know  of  notiiing  worthy  of  being  spoken  of  on  the 
same  day  with  it.  The  toothache,  in  its  worst  form, 
is  bliss  compared  with  it. 

There  was  another  wounded  "  hero  "  in  the  ambu- 
lance, lying  beside  me;  his  leg  was  shattered  below 
the  knee ;  and  I  reckon  that  the  yelling  he  and  I  did, 
jointly,  wasn't  the  sort  to  be  excelled  by  any  other 
two  youths  of  medium  abilities. 

We  were  driven  to  a  small  log  schoolhouse  that 
was  used  as  a  surgical  hospital,  and  there  unloaded. 
I  do  not  know  what  became  of  my  companion  in 
misery — that  is,  in  the  ambulance — for  it  was  as 
much  as  I  could  do  to  keep  myself  in  view  for  some 
days  following. 

"Within  the  schoolhouse  were  several  surgeons 
busily  engaged  in  amputating  limbs ;  while  without, 
beneath  some  oak  trees  that  stood  near,  lay  a  great 
many  sufferers  awaiting  their  turn.  I  must  give  the 
surgeons  credit  for  considerable  dispatch — and  no 
doubt  they  dispatched  many  a  poor  fellow  that  day — 
for  I  observed  that  every  few  minutes,  a  whole  man, 
(in  a  bad  state  of  repair,  to  be  sure,)  was  carried  in, 
and  soon  after  carried  out,  in  from  two  to  four  pieces. 
They  did  their  work  up  with  rapidity,  and  by  even- 
ing, the  arms  and  legs  that  were  piled  up  against 
the  wall  of  the  schoolhouse  without,  would  have 
amounted  to  a  full  cord — limb  measure. 

Well,  as  I  do  not  intend  to  dwell  on  this  part  of 
the  narrative  very  long,  I  will  simply  say  that  the 
doctors  finally  reached  my  case.  I  was  carried  into 
the  little  building,  where  so  many  pangs  had  been 


16  JOHN    SMITH    ON    A    CRUTCH. 

suffered  that  day,  and  laid  on  an  operating-table ;  and 
after  a  slight  examination  of  my  wound,  and  a  con- 
sultation of  eight  or  nine  seconds,  they  lulled  me  to 
repose  with  chloroform,  and  scientifically  relieved  me 
of  my  left  leg.  When  I  returned  from  the  state  of 
profound  oblivion  into  which  the  chloroform  had 
thrown  me,  I  was  glad  to  find  that  they  had  not  made 
a  mistake,  and  cut  off  the  wrong  limb — as  a  doctor 
was  once  known  to  do.  They  had  amputated  the 
right  leg,  because  the  left  one  was  the  right  one — it 
being  the  wounded  one — and  my  right  leg  was  now 
my  left  one,  because  it  was  the  only  one  left.  Yet,  the 
other  was  always  the  left  one,  and  it  has  remained  so, 
because  it  has  been  ever  since  left  on  the  battle  ground. 
However,  that  is  all  right. 

What  I  suffered  during  the  ensuing  three  months 
in  Smoketown  Hospital,  several  miles  from  Sharps- 
burg,  I  will  pass  over  with  but  a  thought  and  a 
shudder,  and  hasten  on  to  tell  of  the  curious  and 
amusing  adventures  I  have  since  met  with,  "  on  a 
crutch." 

I  will  never  forget  my  first  attempt  to  walk  on 
crutches.  I  thought  it  looked  easy,  to  see  others 
walking  about  the  hospital  on  crutches ;  just  as  an  in- 
experienced person  is  apt  to  think  rowing  a  boat  an 
easy  matter,  because  he  sees  others  do  it  with  appa- 
rent facility.  So,  one  day,  when  my  strength  had  so 
increased  that  I  thought  I  could  bear  my  weight  on 
my  only  leg,  I  urged  the  nurse  to  lift  me  up  and  let 
me  try  a  pair  of  crutches. 

He  did  so.  He  raised  me  up,  and  I  stood  holding 
tremulously  to  the  tent-post — for  I  and  five  other  un- 


THE   WAY  IT  HAPPENED.  17 

fortunates  occupied  a  hospital  tent — while  he  care 
fully  placed  a  crutch  under  each  of  my  arms.  It  was 
the  first  time  for  several  months  that  I  had  been  in 
au  erect  position,  and  you  can't  well  imagine  how  I 
felt — without  studying  a  good  while  about  it.  The 
ground  on  which  I  stood  seemed  so  far  beneath  that 
it  made  me  quite  dizzy  to  look  down  on  it,  and  I 
trembled  at  the  awful  possibility  of  falling. 

With  the  crutches  under  my  arms,  and  the  nurse's 
strong  hand  on  my  shoulder  to  keep  me  steady,  I 
made  two  or  three  feeble,  timid  strides,  and  conclud- 
ing that  walking  on  crutches  was  not  quite  what  it 
was  "  cracked  up  "  to  be,  I  faintly  said  : 

"Nurse,  put  me  down  on  the  bed  again  :  I  fear  I 
will  never  walk  well  on  a  crutch." 

"Pshaw!"  said  he,  as  he  assisted  me  to  return  to 
my  couch  of  straw;  "you  do  well,  and  you'll  do 
twice  as  well  next  time  you  try  it." 

"  Twice  as  well  would  be  but  poorly,"  I  rejoined. 
"  However,  I  will  do  my  best." 

"  Certainly  !  Don't  think  of  getting  discouraged." 

As  I  now  look  back  on  that  dismal  scene,  and  re- 
member the  sinking  heart  that  throbbed  so  feebly 
within  me,  and  the  wasted  trembling  limbs  with 
which  I  attempted  to  flee  from  my  prison-like  bed,  I 
cannot  help  smiling; — now,  when  I  can  skate  as  fast 
as  any  one,  on  my  solitary  foot,  swim  as  well  as  I 
ever  could,  climb  like  a  squirrel,  jump  on  a  saddled 
horse  and  ride  at  any  pace  I  please,  place  a  hand  on  a 
fence  as  high  as  my  head  and  spring  over  in  a  quarter 
of  a  second,  or  walk  twenty-five  or  thirty  miles  a 
day — all  this  with  one  good  leg,  a  crutch  and  a  cane! 


18  JOHN    SMITH    OS   A    CRUTCH, 

When  the  spring  came,  and  I  could  walk  about 
with  some  ease,  I  went  from  my  country  home  to 
Philadelphia,  to  get  one  of  Palmer's  artificial  legs, 
supposing  that  I  could  wear  one  advantageously. 
While  on  the  subject,  I  will  simply  say  that  I  got 
one,  but  never  used  it  much,  because  there  was  too 
little  of  the  thigh  left  to  attach  it  to  firmly.  Not 
that  I  would  be  understood  to  detract  from  the  repu- 
tation of  Palmer's  patent  limb;  for  we  all  liked  the 
Doctor,  and  were  most  favorably  impressed  with  his 
handiwork ;  and  my  subsequent  observations  have 
left  no  doubt  in  my  mind  that  his  are  the  most  nearly 
perfect  of  any  artificial  limbs  manufactured. 

Major  King,  Assistant  Surgeon-General  of  Phila- 
delphia, sent  me  to  Haddington  Hospital,  to  wait  till 
the  proposed  new  limb  should  be  ready  for  me;  and 
it  was  there  that  I,  John  Smith,  fairly  began  my 
somewhat  eventful  career — "  Ox  a  Crutch." 

The  hospital,  located  near  the  beautiful  suburban 
village  of  Haddington,  was  set  apart  for  such"  heroes," 
as  had  lost  arms  or  legs,  and  desired  to  replace  them 
with  substantial  wooden  ones.  It  was  not  unusual  at 
that  time  to  see  fifty  or  sixty  one-legged  men  stroll- 
ing about  the  grounds,  in  fine  weather;  or  squads  of 
fifteen  or  twenty,  supplied  with  passes  for  the  day, 
clambering  upon  a  street  car  and  going  into  the  city 
for  a  bit  of  a  spree. 

A  person  once  asked  me  if  it  was  not  a  rather  sad 
sight,   and  if  the   boys   in   this   condition  were  not 
rather  morose   and   gloomy.     The   very  thought   is 
amusing.     I  never,  anywhere,  or  under  any  circi 
stances,   saw   a  livelier   crowd  of  fellows   than 


THE   WAY   IT    HAPPENED.  19 

maimed  and  crippled  soldiers  at  Haddington  Hos- 
pital !  They  were  nearly  all  young  men,  from  seven- 
teen to  twenty-two,  and  a  happier,  noisier,  more  frol- 
icsome set  of  boys  I  never  saw!  It  was  no  unusual 
tiling  for  some  of  them,  in  a  merry  mood,  to  carrv  on 
till  they  got  put  into  the  guard-house,  by  the  impa- 
tient surgeons — sometimes  when  they  scarcely  de- 
served it;  but  of  that,  I  will  say  more  hereafter. 


20  JOHN    SMITH    ON   A   CRUTCH. 


CHAPTER     II. 
John's     Adventures    with    a    Crazy     /Aan. 

TT  ADDINGTON  HOSPITAL  had  its  "characters," 
I  X  as  every  place  has.  I  formed  ties  and  associa- 
/  tions  during  the  spring  of  my  stay  there,  which 
can  never  be  forgotten.  Nearly  all  who  were  there  at 
the  time,  I  remember  with  pleasure.  There  was 
"Chris."  Miller,  whose  leg  was  amputated  below  the 
knee,  and  who  walked  splendidly  on  his  "Palmer 
leg,"  when  he  got  it.  If  there  was  one  of  the  boys 
there  whom  I  liked  better  than  any  other,  it  was 
"Chris."  He  was  a  jovial  fellow,  humorous  and 
witty,  and  the  boys  were  never  at  a  loss  for  a  laugh 
when  he  was  about.  When  he  got  his  artificial  leg 
on  tight  he  got  tight  himself  on  the  strength  of  it, 
and  made  so  much  noise  that  the  Doctors  came  to  the 
melancholy  conclusion  that  it  was  necessary  to  put 
him  into  the  guard-house — which  was  Room  No.  41, 
fourth  story.  There  he  made  more  noise  than  ever, 
sat  in  the  open  window  with  his  feet  dangling  out — 
one  a  wooden  one,  you  know — and  threatened  to 
jump  down  upon  the  roof  of  the  piazza,  a  distance 
of  twenty-five  or  thirty  feet;  so,  the  Doctors  got 
scared,  lest  he  should  do  so,  and  thus  sprain  the 
ankle  of  his  new   leg,   and  they  had  him   brought 


JOHN'S   ADVENTURES  WITH   A   CRAZY    MAN.       21 

down  and  locked  up  in  the  cellar,  where  there  was 
not  such  a  broad  field  for  exercise. 

Nor  shall  I  ever  forget  Young,  a  reckless  boy  of 
the  New  York  Fire  Zouaves,  whose  leg  was  ampu- 
tated five  times.  One  evening  when  I  was  just 
about  to  retire,  he  came  home  from  the  city,  more 
than  tight,  fell,  as  he  came  blundering  up  the  steps, 
and  bursted  his  unfortunate  "  stump  "  open,  so  that 
half-an-inch  more  of  the  bone  had  to  be  sawed  off. 
He  begged  the  privilege  of  keeping  this  fragment  of 
himself,  and  when  he  got  into  a  convalescent  state 
again,  he  worked  whole  days  at  it  with  a  pocket 
knife,  and  carved  it  into  a  very  handsome  ring, 
which  he  ever  afterwards  wore  on  his  middle  finger, 
both  at  the  table  and  elsewhere. 

There,  too,  was  Mr.  Becker,  (a  citizen,)  the  clerk 
of  the  hospital.  He  was  a  handsome  fellow,  with 
black  curling  hair ;  and  he  made  love,  pro  tempore,  to 
one  of  the  village  girls. 

And  there  was  Bingham,  wrhom  I  shall  never 
forget,  a  religious  fellow  who  sung  psalms  of  an 
evening,  and  induced  the  boys  to  make  up  money 
enough  for  him  to  go  home  on — athough  it  was  sub- 
sequently ascertained  that  he  had  plenty  of  money 
himself  at  the  time.  He  was  the  only  mean  fellow  I 
remember ;  but  he  had  lost  a  leg  in  the  service  of  his 
country,  and  I  will  spare  him. 

One  evening,  a  few  weeks  after  I  had  been  ad- 
mitted to  the  hospital,  a  man  named  Thomas,  who 
had  been  absent  for  ten  days,  returned  and  occupied 
a  bed  by  the  side  of  mine.  He  was  a  soldier  who 
had  been  slightly  wounded,  and  was   doing   guard 


22  JOHN"   SMITH   OX   A    CRUTCH. 

dutv  at  the  hospital.  lie  had  been  absent  without 
leave,  had  been  drinking  all  that  time,  and  now  re- 
turned in  a  very  nervous  and  shattered  state  of  body, 
and  an  uneasy  and  gloomy  frame  of  mind.  To  add 
to  his  trepidation,  he  was  apprehensive  that  he  had 
been  marked  as  a  deserter,  during  his  absence;  and 
he  retired  to  bed  in  uncommonly  low  spirits. 

I  was  just  falling  asleep,  and  every  thing  was  quiet 
about  the  hospital,  when  Mr.  Thomas  suddenly  star- 
tled me  by  springing  up  to  a  sitting  posture  in  his  bed, 
and  crying  out : 

"No  you  don't!  I'll  die  first!  I  won't  be  taken! 
You  want  to  try  me  for  a  deserter  and  shoot  me  with 
twelve  muskets!  I  tell  you,  I'll  not  be  taken !" 

"  What's  the  matter,  Thomas?"  I  asked  in  alarm. 

"Matter?  Why,  don't  you  see?  There's  a  whole 
company  of  soldiers  surrounding  the  house,  and  they 
want  to  take  me  for  a  deserter !  Look  !"  he  exclaimed 
wildly,  pointing  through  the  window.  "  Don't  you 
see  them  ?" 

"No.  no,"  I  replied,  perceiving  that  he  was  afflicted 
with  a  mild  attack  of  the  horrors.  "  There  are  no 
soldiers  there.     Lie  down !" 

"  Yes,  there  are !"  he  exclaimed,  springing  out 
upon  the  floor.  "  See  !  See !  Twenty !  Thirty  !  Forty  ! 
Fifty ! — I'll  cut  their  hearts  out  if  they  try  to  take 
me!  I  will!" Here  he  swore  a  profane  oath. 

I  confess  that  I  felt  rather  uneasy  in  the  presence 
of  this  madman,  but  calming  my  fears,  I  said,  coax- 
ingly : 

"  Come,  now,  Thomas,  there's  no  one  after  you. 
Don't  act  so  foolishly !  Do  lie  down  and  go  to  sleep  1" 


JOHN'S   ADVENTURES   WITH  A   CRAZY   MAN.       23 

"  But  I  see  them !  They  are  down  there  by  that 
car,  now  Do  you  see?  0,  I'm  watching  them! 
They'll  be  sharp  if  they  take  me  alive !" 

The  terminus  of  the  Market  Street  and  West 
Philadelphia  horse  railway  is  at  the  building  then 
used  as  a  hospital,  and  a  car  arrived  and  departed 
every  forty  minutes  till  eleven  o'clock.  At  this  time, 
there  was  one  standing  some  fifty  yards  from  the 
building,  awaiting  its  time  to  depart  for  the  depot  in 
West  Philadelphia. 

"Yes,  I  do  see  them  now,"  I  said,  thinking  it  better 
to  humor  him-;  "  but  it  is  very  plain  they  have  con- 
cluded you  are  not  here,  for  they  are  getting  on  that 
car  to  leave." 

"  0,  I  know  their  tricks !"  he  replied,  quickly. 
"  They  only  want  to  make  me  think  they  are  gone, 
so  that  I  will  go  to  sleep,  and  they  can  come  and  take 
me  easily.  But  they  don't  catch  me  that  way!  I 
should  think  not !  Ha !  Ha !  Ha  !" 

"  Really,  Thomas,"  said  I,  persuasively,  "  I  believe 
they  intend  to  go.  Go  to  bed,  and  I  will  watch  for 
you.  If  they  do  not  leave  on  that  car  when  it  goes, 
and  offer  to  come  this  way,  I  will  wake  you  and  tell 
you.     Depend  on  me." 

"  Will  you  ?" 

"  Yes,  indeed  I  will.     Lie  down." 

"  I  will,  then ;  but,  mind,  don't  let  'em  get  near 
The  y 're  sly  as  foxes.     Watch  'em." 

"  Don't  fear/'  I  replied.  "  Go  to  bed,  and  I  will 
wake  you  in  good  time  if  I  see  them  coming." 

Thereupon  Thomas,  who  was  a  large  strong  man 
of  thirty  years,  returned  somewhat  reluctantly  to  his 


24  JOHX    SMITH    ON   A   CRUTCH. 

bed,  while  some  of  the  other  boys  of  the  M  ward  " 
began  to  wake  up,  and  swear  moderately  because 
their  slumbers  had  been  disturbed.  The  murmur 
soon  subsided,  however,  Thomas  seemed  to  sleep,  all 
grew  quiet,  and  1  lay  down  again. 

I  was  just  getting  into  a  comfortable  doze,  when 
Thomas  started  suddenly,  sprung  out  upon  the  floor, 
between  his  bed  and  mine,  making  the  whole  house 
quiver,  placed  his  hands  upon  my  stomach,  and  leaped 
clear  over  me  and  my  bed  at  a  bound.  At  first,  I 
thought  my  "time  had  come,"  for  I  fancied  he  w.-is 
about  to  "  slash  "  me  in  two  with  a  knife ;  but  having 
executed  the  gymnastic  feat  just  described,  he  with- 
drew his  hands,  and  stood  in  a  kind  of  crouching 
position,  trembling  like  a  leaf — especially  like  an 
aspen  leaf. 

"What's  the  matter?"  I  asked,  trembling  about 
as  much  as  he. 

"Hush!"  he  whispered,  in  an  awful  manner. 
"They're  at  the  window!  They  were  pointing  their 
muskets  in !  One  of  them  touched  me  on  the  head. 
Look  !  See  their  bayonets  at  the  window !  Where's 
my  knife?  Eeach  and  get  it  for  me  from  my  pants' 
pocket !  Do !" 

"  Wait  a  moment,"  I  replied,  "till  I  go  to  the  door 
and  look  out.  I  want  to  see  how  many  there  are." 
My  object  was  to  get  out  into  the  hall,  go  and  wake 
the  Doctor,  and  inform  him  of  this  sad  case. 

uXo,  no,  no,  no,  no,  no!"'  he  said,  quickly,  at  the 
same  time  jumping  about  four  feet  high,  and  coming 
down  on  the  floor  like  a  thunderbolt;  "don't  open 
the  door !  They  would  all  rush  in  !" 


JOHN'S  ADVENTURES  WITH   A   CRAZY   MAN.       25 

"Only  the  hall- door,"  I  persisted,  beginning  to 
rise.  "  They're  not  in  the  hall.  Stay  here,  and  I'll 
get  you  a  musket  to  defend  yourself  with." 

The  muskets  belonging  to  the  guards  off  duty  were 
kept  on  a  kind  of  rack  in  the  hall,  immediately 
adjoining  the  room  I  was  in.  I  did  not  wait  to  hear 
any  further  remonstrances  on  the  part  of  Thomas, 
but  leaving  him  standing  there  trembling,  as  only  a 
man  suffering  from  delirium  tremens  can  tremble,  I 
seized  my  two  crutches — for  I  used  two  then — 
stalked  to  the  door,  went  out  into  the  hall,  closed  the 
door  after  me  and  hastened  to  the  room  in  which  the 
Doctor  slept,  which  was  on  the  same  floor. 

It  was  some  little  time  before  I  succeeded  in  getting 
him  awake,  and  when  I  did,  he  growled  out  in  an  ill 
humor,  asked  what  in  the  deuce  I  wanted,  imagined 
I  was  some  one  come  to  rob  him,  seized  his  revolver, 
cocked  it,  threatened  to  blow  my  unhappy  brains  out, 
called  to  me  to  "  halt,  or  I  was  a  dead  man ;"  and,  in 
fact,  he  was,  altogether,  quite  playful. 

"  Don't  shoot !  Don't  shoot !"  I  fairly  yelled.  "  It 
is  I,  Doctor — I,  John  Smith  !" 

"  What  do  you  want — waking  a  fellow  at  this  time 
of  night  ?"  he  demanded.  "  Are  you  sick  ?  Do  you 
want  medicine  ?  Go  to  the  cadet  and  tell  him  to  give 
you: 

R.  Sac,  Satur.  sji, 

Ext.  Vr.  Viride,  Bii, 
Eraetia,  5ji, 
01.  Tig-lii,  gtt,  xx. 
Acid.  Tannicum,  ^iss, 
Fowler's  Sol.  Ars.,  3SS, 
Aqna  distillata,  ^iiiss. 

*Coch.  mag.  every  ten  minutes,  till  relieved; 
and  if " 


26  JOHN    SMITH    OX   A    CRUTCII. 

"Stop!  stop,  for  suffering  humanity's  sake!1'  I  in- 
terrupted. "I  am  not  sick,  at  all.  On  the  contrary, 
am  quite  well — thank  you.     But " 

"  Well,  what  is  the  matter  ?" 

11 1  came  to  tell  you  that  Mr.  Thomas  is  raving 
mad.  He  imagines  that  a  provost-guard  is  after  him, 
and  that  he  is  to  be  shot  as  a  deserter ;  and  he  is 
scampering  about  over  the  ward,  like  a  rat  in  a  hot 
stove.  He  talks  strangely  about  cutting  people's 
hearts  out ;  and  he  may  hurt  some  of  the  boys." 

"  0,  is  that  it  ?"  said  the  Doctor,  now  wide  awake. 
"  Well,  I'll  attend  to  him  !"  And  he  hurridly  turned 
out  and  drew  on  his  unmentionables. 

Accompanied  by  the  Doctor,  a  light,  and  a  guard 
of  two  men  armed  with  muskets,  I  soon  returned  to 
"  Ward  A,"  and  found  Thomas  raving  like  a  "  wild 
man  of  the  woods."  He  imagined  himself  already 
attacked  by  a  company  of  soldiers,  and  he  was  ham- 
mering away  at  my  empty  bed  with  his  big  fists,  and 
cursing  and  swearing  like  an  officer  of  the  Regular 
Army.  All  the  boys  of  the  "  ward  "  were  now  wide 
awake,  and  more  than  scared.  They  were  all  crip- 
ples, and  some  of  them  still  in  a  weak  condition, 
and  they  really  had  much  to  fear  in  case  of  Thomas's 
becoming  generally  pugnacious. 

"  What  do  you  mean,  Thomas  ?"  demanded  the 
Doctor,  angrily.  "  Do  you  want  to  go  into  the  guard- 
house right  now  ?  or  will  you  lie  down  and  take  a 
night's  rest  ?" 

"They've  surrounded,  me!"  vociferated  Thomas, 
with  a  profane  oath.  "  And  I'll  not  be  taken !  I'll 
sell  my  life  as  dearly  as  possible !  I  will !" 


JOHN'S   ADVENTURES   WITH    A   CRAZY   MAN.       27 

"  Confound  you !"  said  the  Doctor,  vexatiously. 
"You'll  cheat  the  man  that  buys  it,  then! — seize  him, 
boys,  and  put  him  in  the  cellar.  Put  on  your  panta- 
loons, Thomas;  you  must  sleep  in  the  cellar  to-night. 
You  shall  not  carry  on  in  this  way." 

Much  to  my  surprise,  Thomas  at  once  cooled  down, 
and  became  perfectly  tractable.  He  offered  no  re- 
sistance, nor  showed  any  signs  of  disobedience,  but 
straightway  drew  on  his  trousaloons,  put  on  his 
blouse,  placed  his  cap  on  his  head,  with  the  visor 
shoved  down  over  his  eyes,  and  quietly  accompanied 
the  guard,  and  allowed  himself  to  be  locked  up  in  a 
strong  room  in  the  basement.  So,  our  peace  and 
tranquillity  were  no  more  invaded  till  roll-call  in  the 
morning. 

When  one  of  the  guards  went  to  give  Thomas  his 
breakfast,  he  found  him  sitting  wTith  a  grave  air  on  a 
low  stool  near  the  door  of  his  prison,  with  a  large 
bloody  pocket-knife  in  his  hand.  There  was  a  pool 
of  gore  on  the  floor  at  his  feet,  and  his  neck  and 
breast  were  terribly  gashed. 

"  Why,  Thomas!"  exclaimed  the  horrified  sentinel, 
11  What  have  you  done?" 

"Some  fellow,", returned  Thomas,  in  a  calm,  and 
even  dignified  tone,  "  murdered  my  father  last  night 

in  the  room  above,  and "  pointing  to  the  blood 

on  the  floor — "  his  blood  ran  down  here.  Some 
of  it  fell  on  me,  but  how  could  I  help  that  ?" 

"But  wrhat  are  you  doing  with  that  knife?  You 
have  surely  cut  yourself." 

"  O,"  he  retorted  coolly,  as  he  pointed  to  his  lace- 
rated breast,  u  I  have  been  merely  trying  to  get  my 


28  JOHN    SMITH   ON   A   CRUTCH. 

heart  out.  I  had  hold  of  it  once,  but  it  slipped  out 
of  my  hand." 

There  was  a  wild  look  in  his  eye,  and  he  presented 
a  rather  dangerous  appearance  with  the  gory  knife 
in  his  hand,  and  his  clothes  stained  with  blood.  The 
entinel  paused  a  moment,  then  duty  triumphing 
over  fear,  he  advanced  boldly,  and  said,  in  an  authori- 
tative tone : 

"Give  me  that  knife!" 

Without  a  word,  Thomas  submissively  handed  him 
the  bloody  instrument,  with  which  he  had  been  at- 
tempting self-destruction.  It  was  a  large  knife  with 
eating-fork  attached,  such  as  was  much  used  by  sol- 
diers during  the  war — the  blade  being  about  four 
inches  long. 

Having  secured  this  weapon,  the  sentinel  closed 
and  locked  the  door,  then  hastened  to  inform  the 
Doctor  of  what  had  occurred.  Thereupon  Thomas 
was  conducted  to  an  upper  room,  his  wounds — 
twenty -two  in  number — were  examined  and  dressed, 
and  he  was  put  to  bed.  There  were  two  Doctors  at 
the  hospital  at  the  time,  and  both  expressed  a  like 
opinion  on  the  case  of  poor  Thomas.  They  said  they 
wouldn't  be  surprised  if  he  should  die,  but  yet,  that 
it  was  possible  he  might  get  well — if  "kept  quiet:" 
so,  by  this  non-committal  course,  they  did  not  endanger 
their  reputation. 


PROPOSES  TO  LEAP  FROM  A  WINDOW.     29 


CHAPTER     III. 

Proposes    to  Leap    From    a    Jhird-^tory 
Window. 

fOR  some  days,  the  recovery  of  Mr.  Thomas  was 
very  doubtful.  Some  one  had  to  stay  with  him 
continually,  and  especially  at  night,  for  at  that 
dreary  hour,  "  when  churchyards  yawn,"  and  one  ex- 
periences an  inclination  to  sup  on  "  hot  blood,"  (vide 
Hamlet,)  he  was  in  the  habit  of  raving  a  good  deal, 
and  of  threatening  to  destroy  himself,  and  the  greater 
portion  of  the  human  race. 

By  and  by,  "sitting  up"  with  him  got  to  be  a 
rather  sleepy  task,  and  as  there  were  not  very  many 
whole  men  about,  it  was  necessary  for  the  cripples  to 
take  turns  at  it. 

One  night,  a  week  or  so  after  the  attempted  suicide, 
my  turn  came.  I  was  told  early  in  the  evening  that 
I  was  detailed  to  get  up  at  twelve  o'clock,  and  stay 
with  the  sufferer  till  three.  At  the  appointed  time 
I  was  awakened  by  one  of  the  nurses,  arose,  dressed, 
and  proceeded  to  the  invalid's  apartments.  I  en- 
tered the  room  with  some  misgivings,  and  relieved  a 
one-armed  "  hero,"  who  had  been  watching  since  nine 
o'clock.     The  latter  retired  at  once,  and  left  me  alone 


30         JOHN"  SMITH  OX  A  CRUTCH. 

with  the  patient.  The  latter  was  asleep  at  that  time, 
and  the  single  candle  that  was  burning  in  the  room 
shed  a  ghastly  light  over  his  ashen  face,  and  the  white 
bandage,  slightly  blood-stained,  that  was  bound  around 
his  unhappy  neck. 

"  He  is  asleep  now,"  the  one-armed  soldier  had  said, 
before  withdrawing,  "and  may  not  give  you  any 
trouble.  If  he  should  awake  and  try  to  hurt  you> 
ring  the  bell." 

The  bell- wires,  et  cetera,  used  when  the  building 
was  a  hotel,  were  still  in  good  working  order,  and 
all  that  lent  me  courage  was  the  bell-pull  that  hung 
down  close  to  my  ear,  when  I  had  taken  a  seat  on  a 
chair  near  the  door. 

I  was  just  getting  into  an  -uncomfortable  doze, 
when  the  patient  waked  up,  awoke  me,  and  raising 
up  quietly  in  bed,  remarked  : 

"I  believe  I'll  jump  out  of  this  window." 

He  said  it  as  coolly  as  a  man  in  good  health  would 
say :  "  I  believe  I'll  take  a  walk." 

It  was  a  third-story  room,  and  the  bed  stood  im- 
mediately by  the  window.  I  thought  of  the  disas- 
trous consequences  of  such  a  proceeding  on  the  part 
of  Thomas,  and  earnestly  advised  him  not  to  think 
seriously  of  embarking  in  such  a  colossal  enterprise. 
The  window  was  raised  about  two  feet,  it  being  a 
warm  night,  and  he  gazed  wistfully  out  into  the  som- 
bre darkness. 

"Don't  do  it,  Thomas,"  said  I,  -with  earnestness. 
"  We  are  at  least  thirty  feet  from  the  ground,  and  in 
your  present  condition  it  would  not  be  judicious. 
Wait  till  you  get  well,  at  least." 


PROPOSES  TO  LEAP  FROM  A  WINDOW.     31 

"Tom  jump  out,"  he  suggested,  turning  and  looking 
upon  me  with  a  wild  stare. 

He  seemed  to  have  just  thought  of  it.  What  could 
be  my  excuse,  for  not  taking  a  flying  leap  in  the 
dark,  I  being  in  sound  health — what  there  was  of 
me? 

I  glanced  furtively  at  the  bell-pull,  and  replied  : 

"Ono;  not  from  that  window.  You  see,  that  is  a 
back  window.  The  laundress  has  some  clothes  hung 
out  to  dry  just  below,  and  it  might  injure  them. 
Besides,  I  am  in  the  habit  of  doing  my  leaping  from 
a  fourth-story  front  window.  You'll  always  find, 
Thomas,  that  a  man  of  refinement  prefers  a  leap 
from  a  window  of  the  fourth  floor." 

He  sat  awhile,  in  a  sort  of  thoughtful  attitude, 
while  I  kept  one  eye  on  the  bell-cord,  and  the  other 
on  him  ;  then,  to  my  relief,  he  deliberately  lay  down 
again,  drew  the  covers  close  up  to  his  chin,  and 
glided  off  into  a  gentle  slumber. 

I  had  no  more  trouble  with  him.  Thomas  got 
well,  in  the  course  of  a  month,  left  off  drinking,  and 
got  to  be  a  pretty  sensible  sort  of  fellow.  The  last 
time  I  saw  him  was  one  day,  some  months  after  I 
had  left  the  hospital,  when  I  returned  to  the  old 
place  on  a  brief  visit.  He  was  engaged  in  a  four- 
hand  game  of  euchre,  and  I  observed,  just  as  I  ar- 
rived, that  he  held  in  his  hand  both  bowers,  ace,  kino- 
and  queen:  would  you  believe  it?— — -he  had  the 
temerity  to  play  it  "alone,"  and  the  extraordinarily 
good  luck,  to  make  "  four  times." 


32  JOHN    SMITH   OX   A    CRUTCH. 


CHAPTER     IV. 
Locked     Up. 

THE  inmates  of  the  hospital  were  allowed  passes, 
after  roll-call  in  the  morning,  to  go  into  the  city, 
or  whither  they  pleased;  but  it  was  imperative 
that  they  should  return  by  half-past  seven  in  the 
evening,  positively,  without  Fail.  One  morning,  as 
usual,  I  got  a  pass  to  go  into  the  city,  and  as  the  Doc- 
tor handed  it  to  me,  he  said: 

"  Don't  fail  to  be  back  at  half-past  seven." 

11 1  won't,"  I  replied,  with  the  best  intentions  in  the 
world. 

As  new  patients  arrived  almost  every  day,  some  of 
whom  might  be  ignorant  of  the  rules  and  regulations, 
the  Doctor  had  got  into  the  habit  of  repeating  this  in- 
junction  every  time  he  gave  out  a  pass;  and  as  he 
gave,  on  an  average,  about  one  hundred  and  fifty  per 
day,  Sundays  excluded,  he  must,  in  the  course  of  a 
year,  have  said,  "Don't  fail  to  return  by  half-past 
seven,"  forty-six  thousand  nine  hundred  and  fifty  times. 

I  had  just  stepped  from  the  street-car  in  the  heart 
of  the  city,  when  I  ran  squarely  against  one  of  the 
boys  of  my  own  regiment,  whom  I  had  not  seen  since 
the  battle  of  Antietam. 

"  Hallo,  Charlie !"  I  exclaimed,  delighted  to  see  the 


LOCKED    UP.  8S 

familiar  face  of  my  comrade ;  "  what  are  vou  doing 
here  ?" 

"  I  have  been  in  the  Chestnut  Hill  Hospital,"  was 
his  reply,  as  we  shook  hands.  "  I  was  wounded  at 
Fredericksburg,  and  am  just  well  enough  now  to  re- 
turn to  the  regiment:  I  go  to  Washington  to-day. 
What  are  you  doing  here  ?" 

"  I  am  staying  at  Haddington  Hospital,"  I  returned, 
"  waiting  to  have  a  Palmer  leg  fitted  on  me  that  is 
made  of  willow,  and  only  weighs  three  ounces  and  a 
half." 

11  Come  and  go  to  Washington  with  me,"  he  said, 
as  the  thought  appeared  to  strike  him.  (It  struck  me 
rather  forcibly  about  the  same  time,  I  confess.) 

"I  couldn't— I— I— " 

"Why  couldn't  you?" 

"  Because  I  only  have  a  pass  till  evening." 

"Oh,  that  will  make  no  difference.  They  will 
hardly  be  so  strict  with  the  cripples." 

"  When  do  you  go  ?"  I  asked,  thoughtfully. 

"  At  eleven  o'clock." 

"  Where  is  the  regiment  ?" 

"Lying  at  Upton's  Hill.  Come— you'll  go  with 
me!" 

"I  might  get  into  trouble,"  I  said,  wavering.  "I 
only  have  a  pass  till  half-past  seven,  and  if  I  should 
go  away  and  stay  whole  days " 

"O,  pshaw!  They  wouldn't  care.  You  have  no 
duty  to  perform  there." 

«  No,  but " 

"0,  come,"  he  urged — all  I  wanted  was  a  little 
urging — "the  boys  would  be  so  glad  to  see  you  I 
3 


34  JOHN    SMITH   ON   A   CRUTCH. 

You  don't  know  how  they  felt  about  your  losing  a 
leg  at  An,ietam  I" 

This  argument  completely  disarmed  me.  I  had 
not  been  with  the  regiment  since  I  was  carried  away 
from  it  in  the  smoke  of  battle,  and,  O,  I  knew  that 
he  boys  would  be  glad  to  see  me !  No  one  who  has 
not  been  a  soldier  knows  how  dear  one's  comrades 
are  to  him !  And  especially  his  messmates — those 
with  whom  he  has  slept  many  a  time  on  the  cold 
ground,  and  under  the  same  narrow  tent ;  those  with 
whom  he  has  drank  from  the  same  canteen,  or  eaten 
from  the  same  scanty  dish  !  The  attachment  that  grows 
•up  among  companions  in  arms  is  like  no  other.  It  is 
not  like  paternal  or  fraternal  love ;  it  is  not  like  the 
love  of  lovers ;  but  it  is  as  fond,  as  deep,  and  as  lasting ! 

I  accompanied  my  comrade  to  Washington,  thence 
to  Upton's  Hill,  and  saw  the  "boys;"  and  I  think  I 
never  enjoyed  so  much  true  happiness,  in  the  same 
length  of  time,  as  I  did  during  that  pleasant  visit.  I 
never  thought  of  my  being  absent  without  leave,  till 
I  neared  Philadelphia  again.  Then  I  began  to  wonder 
if  "any  thing  would  be  done  with  me"  on  my  return 
to  the  hospital.  I  tried  to  persuade  myself  that  there 
was  no  danger  of  any  thing  of  the  sort,  but  something 
would  keep  whispering  to  me  that  I  was  going  to 
"  get  into  trouble." 

I  arrived  at  the  hospital  again  just  one  week  from 
the  day  I  had  left.  The  roll  was  regularly  called, 
both  in  the  morning  and  in  the  evening,  and  I  could 
not  suppress  an  involuntary  shudder,  as  I  thought  of 
the  fourteen  roll-calls  I  had  evidently  missed,  and  of 
the  fourteen  black  marks  that  were  surely  placed,  by 


LOCKED  UP.  35 

this  time,  opposite  the  honest,  unassuming  name  of 
Smith,  John. 

However,  I  put  on  a  bold  face,  walked  up  the  hos- 
pital steps,  paid  no  attention  to  the  guard,  who  said, 
'•  Where  the  deuce  have  you  been  all  this  time?" 
walked  in,  and  calmly  reported  myself  to  the 
surgeon. 

II  Doctor,"  said  I,  "  it  isn't  half-past  seven  yet,  is 
it?"   (It  was  about  two  o'clock,  post  meridian,) 

I  had  hoped  he  would  enjoy  this  joke,  and  good- 
naturedly  laugh  the  affair  off,  but  I  saw  no  such  indi- 
cations on  his  stern  couutenance. 

"  Where  have  you  been,  Smith  ?"  he  asked.  Do  I 
say  asked?  I  should  say,  demanded.  That  is  putting 
it  mildly  enough. 

II I  went  to  Upton's  Hill  to  see  my  regiment,"  I 
replied. 

II  Exactly.     Upton's  Hill.     Let  me  see — that  is — " 
"Upton's  Hill,"  said  I,    "is  about  eight    or  nine 

miles  from  Alexandria,  by  the  pike.  From  Wash- 
ington, it  is  situated —" 

In  fact,  I  was  going  on  to  deliver  a  first  class 
lecture  on  geography,  when  he  interrupted  me 
with  : 

"  So  you  went  there,  eh  ?  A  pretty  way  to  act !  I 
gave  you  a  pass  a  week  ago  to-day,  as  the  records 
will  show,  telling  you  to  return  by  half-past  seven, 
and,  until  now,  have  not  seen  you  or  heard  of 
you!" 

"  Well,"  said  I,  still  hoping  that  the  affair  might 
be  accepted  as  a  joke,  "I  am  back,  you  see,  before 
half-past  seven.     The  mere  matter  of  a  week " 


36  JOHN    SMITH  ON  A  CRUTCH. 

11  Go  to  your  ward,"  interrupted  the  Doctor,  who 
did  not  seem  to  be  in  a  joking  mood. 

"Glad  to  get  off  so  easily,1'  I  muttered  to  myself, 
as  I  withdrew.  "I  really  did  begin  to  get  a  little 
scared ;  but  it's  all  right  now.  I  believe  I'll  go  and 
write  a  letter  or  two." 

Now,  there  was  at  the  hospital,  acting  as  sergeant 
of  the  guard,  a  contemptible  little  fellow  named 
Kinsley,  who  had  never  been  wounded,  and  probably 
had  never  seen  any  active  service.  I  do  not  remem- 
ber what  regiment  he  belonged  to.  He  was  very  fond 
of  displaying  his  sergeant's  stripes,  paper  collar,  and 
delicate  little  mustache.  I  had  not  been  in  my  ward 
long,  when  this  pompous  little  fellow  came  in  with  a 
key  in  his  hand,  approached  me  and  said : 

M  Come  and  go  with  me,  Smith." 

Observing  the  key,  I  at  first  supposed  that  new 
quarters  had  been  assigned  me — in  truth,  I  was 
nearly  right — and  I  arose  and  followed  him.  He  led 
the  way  up  one  flight  of  stairs,  then  another,  then 
another.  We  had  not  quite  reached  the  fourth  story 
when  the  horrible  truth  suddenly  flashed  upon  me.  1 
was*  to  be  put  in  the  guard-house  —yes,  the  GUARD- 
HOUSE ! 

"  Sergeant,"  said  I,  pausing  on  the  stairs,  "  I  half 
believe  that  you  contemplate  locking  me  up." 

"  So  I  am  ordered,"  he  replied. 

"I've  considered  the  matter,"  I  continued,  coolly, 
''and  have  come  to  the  conclusion  not  to  go." 

"But  you've  got  to  go,"  said  he.  "  There's  no  use 
if " 

"  No,  I  really  don't  think  I'll  go  :  not  right  away, 


LOCKED   UP.   -  37 

anyhow,"  I  said,  coolly  ;  and  I  turned  about  and  began 
to  descend  the  stairs. 

He  quickly  followed  me,  and  roughly  seized  one  of 
iny  arms.  Letting  my  crutches  fall,  I  turned  im- 
petuously upon  him,  and  with  all  the  fire  of  assailed 
dignity,  seized  the  foppish  little  sergeant  by  both 
arms,  and  hurled  him  down  the  stairs  with  all  my 
might.  I  tumbled  down  after  him,  however,  for  I 
had  not  then  such  command  of  my  equilibrium  as  I 
have  since  acquired,  and  we  landed  at  the  foot  of  the 
stairs  all  in  a  heap.  I  was  up  first,  and  snatching  up 
one  of  my  crutches  for  a  weapon,  I  stood  with  my 
back  to  the  wall,  and  proposed  to  "split  his  skull  "  if 
he  should  dare  to  approach.  He  did  not  dare,  how- 
ever, but  with  a  savage  oath  for  so  small  a  man.  he 
picked  himself  up  and  ran  down  the  other  two  flights 
of  stairs.  I  deliberately  followed.  I  was  half-way 
down  the  last  flight,  when  the  Doctor  and  two  guards, 
armed  with  musket  and  bayonet,  appeared  in  the  hall. 

"  Doctor,"  said  I,  ''  did  you  order  me  to  be  put  in 
the  guard-house?" 

"  Yes,"  he  replied,  frankly. 

"  You  have  no  right  to  do  it,"  I  said,  with  some 
force.  "I  am  a  sergeant,  and  cannot,  without  atrial, 
be  confined  in  a  guard-house." 

"But  you  can,"  he  retorted,  "if  there  are  men 
enough  here  to  carry  you  up.  Go,  boys,  and  put  him 
in  No.  41." 

The  two  guards  came  up  to  me,  and  one  of  them 
said  : 

"  Come,  now,  you  see  we  are  ordered  to  do  it.  We 
don't  like  to,  but " 


38  JOHN    SMITH   ON   A   CRUTCH. 

"I  will  go  with  you"  said  I,  ''for  I  know  you  are  a 
soldier;  but  if  that  dandified  little  sergeant  comes 
within  reach  of  me,  I  will  break  his  headl" 

I  again  ascended  the  stairs,  for  I  saw  that  resistance 
would  be  both  useless  and  wrong;  and  one  of  the 
guards,  inserting  the  key,  opened  the  door,  and  I 
walked  in.  Just  then,  the  cowardly  little  sergeant 
made  his  appearance,  rushed  to  the  door,  drew  it  to, 
turned  the  key,  and  tauntingly  said : 

"Now  Tve  got  you,  my  fine  fellow  !  You  see  a  ser- 
geant can  be  put  in  the  guardhouse!" 

I  could  not  help  acknowledging  the  truth  of  this, 
but  did  not  do  so  to  him.  I  merely  promised  to  lick 
him  as  soon  as  I  should  get  out. 

uYou  know  nobody  would  hurt  you,  because  you 
are  a  cripple,"  he  replied,  "  or  you  wouldn't  talk  that 
way." 

"And  you,"  I  retorted,  "who  never  went  into 
danger  enough  to  lose  a  limb,  can  well  afford  to 
lounge  about  a  hospital,  and  bully  over  the  cripples!" 

No  reply  was  made:  I  heard  them  going  down 
stairs,  and  I  was  alone  in  my  prison ! 

Fortunately,  during  my  youthful  days  I  had  not 
neglected  one  important  branch  of  my  education.  I 
had  read,  with  deep  interest,  minute  and  graphic  ac- 
counts of  the  daring  adventures  and  hair-breadth 
escapes  of  Claude  Duval,  Dick  Turpin,  and  Sixteen- 
string  Jack,  contained  in  a  series  of  twenty-four  octavo 
volumes,  of  one  hundred  pages  each,  handsomely 
bound  in  orange-colored  paper,  and  illustrated  with 
numerous  spirited  lithographic  engravings,  done  on 
brown  st:me. 


LOCKED    UP.  39 

There  is  no  sort  of  learning  that  will  not  come  in 
play  at  some  time  or  other;  and,  with  my  extensive 
theoretic  knowledge  of  prisons,  it  is  not  to  be  sup- 
posed that  an  ordinary  hotel-room,  with  the  lock  on 
the  inside  of  the  door,  would  hold  me  very  long.  I 
looked  about  me  for  means  of  escape.  The  window 
was  too  high  to  think  of  taking  a  jump  from  it,  as  it 
will  be  remembered  I  had  led  Thomas  to  believe  I 
was  in  the  habit  of  doing,  and  as  Chris.  Miller  had 
threatened  to  do ;  so  I  resolved  to  force  the  door  open 
or  die  in  the  attempt. 

There  was  a  stove  in  the  room,  without  fire,  of 
course,  and  I  opened  the  door  and  peered  in.  It  con- 
tained about  eighteen  quarts  of  ashes  and  cinders,  and 

a   small    iron   shovel   with   an    iron   handle.     I 

seized  it  with  joy.  I  saw  liberty  beaming  all  over  it. 
First  I  tried  to  insert  the  handle  between  the  lock 
and  the  iron  "catch,"  into  which  the  bolt  went,  which 
was  only  secured  by  a  couple  of  one-and-a-half-inch 
wood-screws.  The  crevice  was  too  small,  or  the 
shovel-handle  too  big.  I  next  tried  a  corner  of  the 
shovel  itself:  it  entered  the  crevice,  but  it  proved  too 
pliable — it  bent.  Then,  with  some  effort,  I  wrenched 
the  handle  from  the  shovel,  and  tried  that  end.  It 
was  smaller  than  the  other  end,  and  success  stared  me 
in  the  face.  I  inserted  it  in  the  crevice,  and,  with  a 
reasonable  expenditure  of  strength,  pried  the  "  catch  " 
off,  and  it  fell  to  the  floor,  in  a  s  >mewhat  bent  and 
dented  condition.  The  door  swung  open.  I  was 
free. 

Thus  liberated,  I  walked  calmly  down  stairs,  and 
went  out  on  the  piazza,  where  the   Doctor  and  a 


40  JOHN    SMITH    ON   A   CRUTCH. 

number    of   the    boys    were    sitting,   airing    them 
selves. 

"Doctor,"  I  said,  coolly,  as  I  boldly  confronted 
him,  "I  am  not  accustomed  to  sleeping  in  the  fourth 
story:  couldn't  you  give  me  a  room  lower  down?" 


ACCOMMODATED  WITH  A  ROOM  LOWER  DOWN.    41 


CHAPTER    V. 

Accommodated  with  a  •  .Room  Lower  down.  ■  • 

NEVER  saw  a  man  stare  with  such  pure  unal- 
I  loyed  astonishment  as  the  Doctor  did  on  this  occa- 
/  sion.  Not  five  minutes  had  elapsed  since  he  had 
had  me  locked  up  in  the  guard-house,  and  yet,  there  I 
was — free.  He  stared  at  me  for  a  moment  as  though 
I  were  an  apparition  from  the  dead,  then  stammered : 

"  Why — why — is — is — this — John  Smith  ?" 

tc  So  I  am  called,"  I  replied,  coolly  taking  a  seat 
on  a  bench. 

He  arose  from  his  seat,  stared  for  a  moment,  again, 
with  contracted  brows  and  a  puzzled  expression  of 
countenance,  then  said : 

rt  I — I — thought  you — were  put — in  No.  41 !" 

11  So  I  was,"  I  calmly  replied.  And  I  deliberately 
took  a  newspaper  from  my  pocket  and  cast  my  eye 
over  the  late  items. 

"  How — how — in  the  name  of  sense — did  you  get 
out?" 

11 0,  that  was  easy,"  I  replied,  carelessly,  as  I  re- 
garded the  paper  more  attentively. 

"Sergeant  Kinsley,"  said  the  Doctor,  calling  to 
the  insignificant  little  sergeant  who  was  standing  at 
the  other  end  of  the  porch,  "  come  here." 


42  JOHN   SMITH   ON   A   CRUTCH. 

The  sergeant  approached. 

11  Didn't  you  put  Smith  in  the  guard-house  ?" 

"Yes  sir,"  returned  Kinsley. 

"  Here  he  is,"  said  the  Doctor,  pointing  to  me. 
(  How  did  he  get  out?" 

Kinsley,  who  had  not  before  observed  my  presence, 
started  back,  turned  pale,  and  said  :  "  I — I — don't 
know." 

11  Go  and  see,"  said  the  Doctor. 

Glad  to  get  out  of  my  presence,  Kinsley  ran  up 
stairs,  and  in  a  minute  or  so  returned,  and  reported 
what  had  be^n  done. 

Now,  if  the  Doctor  had  possessed  the  heart  of  a 
human  being  he  would  have  suspended  his  persecu- 
cutions,  after  that — in  a  word,  would  have  "letup" 
on  me — but  he  seemed  entirely  impervious  to  good 
jokes,  practical  or  otherwise,  and  was  more  than  ever 
determined  to  punish  me. 

"  Sergeant,"  said  he,  no  doubt  thinking  he  was  per- 
petrating a  joke — but  /  couldn't  see  it — "  Smith 
wants  a  room  lower  down,  he  says.  I  think  we  can 
accommodate  him.     Put  him  in  the  cllarf" 

There  was,  in  the  basement,  a  dark  apartment  with 
an  iron  door — the  same  room  in  which  crazy  Thomas 
had  been  confined — and  that  was  the  "room  lower 
down"  assigned  me  on  this  melancholy  occasion. 

"Will  you  go?"  said  Kinsley,  standing  off  at  a 
respectful  distance:  "  Or  will  it  be  necessary  to  call 
the  guard  V 

"It  will  be  necessary  to  call  the  guard,"  I  replied, 
folding  up  my  paper,  arising  and  taking  a  hostile 
attitude. 


ACCOMMODATED  WITH  A  ROOM  LOWER  DOWN".     43 

"  You  might  as  well  go  with  him  quietly,  Smith  " — 
the  Doctor  began. 

"  No  I  won't."  I  interrupted.  "  Should  I  do  so,  it 
is  not  positively  certain  that  he  would  get  back  in  a 
sound  condition,  and  you  might  lose  a  valuable  ser- 
vant, who  is  not  scrupulous  about  turning  his  hand  to 
any  sort  of  work." 

"  Call  the  guard,"  said  the  Doctor. 

The  guard  was  called. 

I  was  put  in  the  cellar. 

Only  a  few  dim  rays  of  light  found  their  way  into 
my  dismal  prison,  and  they  came  struggling  through 
a  small  crevice  in  the  double  partition  of  thick  pine 
boards  that  divided  the  "  cell "  from  the  knapsack- 
room.  On  this  formidable  partition  I  at  once  went 
to  work,  with  extraordinary  nonchalance,  with  a  small 
six-bladed  knife  I  had  in  my* pocket.  I  think  this 
course  was  much  more  laudable  than  that  pursued  by 
Mr.  Thomas,  when  confined  in  the  same  apartment, 
with  a  knife  for  a  companion. 

I  worked  diligently,  cutting  off  one  thin  shaving 
after  another,  till  night  came ;  by  which  time  I  had 
actually  cut  a  hole  in  the  thick  partition  through 
which  I  could  easily  thrust  my  arm. 

Next  morning,  after  a  miserable  fragment  of  repose 
on  an  old  mattress,  I  arose  early,  and  resumed  my 
work.  I  had  not  been  long  at  it  when  Sergeant 
Kinsley  came  down  with  some  provisions  for  me, 
consisting  of  bread  and  water.  I  took  the  large  tin 
cup  of  water  from  his  hand,  dashed  it  in  his  face, 
siamrned  the  iron  door  to,  braced  it  with  one  of  my 
crutches,  and  went  at  my  work  again;   while  he, 


44  JOHN    SMITH    ON   A   CRUTCH. 

strangling,  sputtering  and  swearing  in  wild  rage, 
locked  the  door,  and  rushed  up  stairs. 

Cutting,  splintering  and  shaving,  I  worked  away, 
and  by  noon,  I  had  made  an  aperture  in  the  wall 
through  which  one  might  have  thrown  a  hat — that 
wasn't  too  wide  in  the  brim. 

By  and  by,  I  heard  some  one  coming  down  the 
steps,  and  a  light  from  the  door  above  shone  down 
through  the  bars  of  the  iron  door.  Some  one  un- 
locked it  and  entered.  It  was  one  of  the  guards — 
one  who  had  been  wounded  in  the  service. 

"  I  have  brought  you  your  dinner,"  said  he. 
11  They  only  gave  me  some  bread  and  water  for  you, 
but  I  stole  a  nice  piece  of  boiled  beef  from  the  cook- 
house.    Here  it  is." 

tl  Thank  you,"  I  said,  gladly  accepting  the  repast. 
"  What  did  Kinsley  say  ?" 

"  0,  he's  as  mad  as  a  hornet !  He  said  you  threw  the 
water  in  his  face." 

"So  I  did." 

"Served  him  right,"  said  the  guard,  laughing. 
M  He's  an  overbearing  young  puppy,  who  never 
heard  a  bullet  whistle  in  his  life.  I  knocked  him 
down  one  day,  and  he  has  been  civil  towards  me  ever 
since.     Not  very  comfortable  down  here,  is  it?" 

"  Not  very." 

"  Well,  you'll  soon  be  out.  I  heard  the  Doctor  say 
he  would  let  you  out  this  evening.  He  told  me  not 
to  tell  you,  and  I  said  I  wouldn't.  I  meant,  I 
wouldn't  till  I'd  see  you." 

I  eat  my  dinner  with  a  relish,  and,  after  he  had 
gone,  I  worked  away  at  my  new  window — merely  for 


ACCOMMODATED   WITH   A  ROOM  LOWER  DOWN.   45 

pastime.  I  did  not  make  it  much  larger  that  after- 
noon, but  I  trimmed  it  up  around  the  edges,  and  got 
it  into  some  shape,  thinking  it  might  do  to  put  a  pane 
of  glass  into,  some  day. 

That  evening  I  was  released,  and  informed  by  the 
Doctor  that  my  name  should  go  on  the  ''Black  List," 
for  the  space  of  one  week.  The  "  black  list"  was  a 
list  of  the  names  of  those  who,  for  misdemeanor, 
were  denied  passes  for  a  certain  time.  And  on  this 
roll  was  the  noble  name  of  John  Smith,  to  be  placed 
for  seven  days!  I  thought  the  Doctor  would  relent 
by  Monday  morning,  so  I  called  on  him  at  his  office, 

and  said : 

"  Doctor,  I  should  be  most  happy  to  visit  the  city 
to-day.  and  if  you  will  have  the  kindness  to  favor  me 

with " 

"  No,  no,  Smith,"  he  interrupted,  in  a  decided  tone ; 
"  You  can  have  no  pass  to-day." 

"But " 

"No  use  talking:  you  can  have  no  pass  to-day." 

I  saw  that  he  "meant  it;"  so  I  turned  away  for 
the  time,  and  called  again  the  next  morning. 

"  Doctor,"  said  I,  with  a  beaming  smile,  "  there  is 
a  friend  of  mine  in  the  city,  whom  I  would  like  to 

see,  and  if " 

"  You  can  have  no  pass  to*clay,  Smith,"  he  inter- 
rupted :  "nor  till  your  week  is  up.  We  have  dis- 
covered how  you  cut  the  partition- wall  when  you  were 
in  the  cellar.     What  did  you  do  that  for  ?" 

"  To  get  out,"  I  replied. 

"If  I  had  known  it,"  said  he,  with  some  severity, 
"  I  would  have  kept  you  in  three  days  longer  1" 


46  JOHN   SMITH   ON  A   CRUTCH. 

"Then  I  nm  glad  you  didn't  know  it,"  said  I. 

u  At  least,"  he  rejoined,  "  you  can  have  no  pass  till 
your  week  is  up.     That  will  be  on  Saturday." 

I  gave  it  up  for  that  morning,  but  promptly  re- 
turned and  renewed  my  importunities  on  Wednesday 
morning.  I  was  refused,  as  before,  and  peremptorily 
ordered  not  to  solicit  a  pass  again  till  Saturday.  In 
accordance  (?)  with  this  order,  I  promptly  returned 
on  Thursday  morning,  and  most  earnestly  request  d 
the  favor  of  a  pass,  stating  that  it  was  indispensable 
that  I  should  visit  the  city  that  day.  The  Doctor  re- 
fused again,  and  threatened  to  put  me  in  the  cellar 
again  for  three  days,  and  place  my  name  on  the 
11  Black  List"  for  two  weeks,  if  I  should  "bore"  him 
for  a  pass  again,  sooner  than  Saturday. 

Therefore,  I  concluded  to  go  to  the  city  anyhow. 
So  I  slipped  out  the  back  way,  threw  my  crutches 
over  the  fence,  climbed  over  after  them,  and,  without 
being  observed  by  the  guard,  made  my  wav  to  the 
street-car  that  stood  awaiting  its  starting-time,  and  got 
aboard  of  it :  thus  I  clandestinely  went  into  the  city. 

There,  the  first  thing  I  did  was  to  call  on  Doctor 
Levis,  at  his  residence.  He  was  controlling  surgeon 
of  Haddington  Hospital,  and  I  determined  to  make  a 
"point."  I  informed  him  that  I  had  not  been  very 
well  treated  at  the  hospital,  talked  nice  to  him,  used 
the  best  language  of  which  I  was  master,  introduced 
foreign  words  and  phrases,  made  vague  allusions  to 
law  and  history,  touched  on  chemistry,  gave  him  to 
understand  that  the  assistant  surgeons  at  the  hospital 
were  the  most  tyrannical  fiends  in  existence,  and  that 
/  was  the  very  paragon  of  all  human  excellence ;  anc^ 


ACCOMODATED  WITH  A  ROOM   LOWER  DOWN.      47 

finally,  requested  him  to  do  me  the  slight  favor  of 
giving  me  a  standing  pass — that  is,  an  order  addressed 
to  the  assistant-surgeons  at  the  hospital,  commanding 
them  to  allow  the  bearer,  John  Smith,  "  who  had 
friends  in  the  city,  with  whom  he  might  desire  to  stay 
a  night  now  and  then," — to  pass  in  and  out  of  the 
hospital,  day  or  night,  for  all  time  to  come.  This, 
Ductor  Levis, — who,  I  must  say,  is  a  perfect  gentle- 
man, and  was  beloved  by  all  the  wounded  soldiers 
under  his  charge — wrote,  signed,  and  gave  to  me, 
without  a  word  of  objection  ;  while  I  poured  out  the 
overflowings  of  my  grateful  heart  in  the  most  profuse 
thanks,  and  earnestly  begged  him,  in  case  he  should 
ever  visit  Western  Pennsylvania,  where  I  then  re- 
sided, to  call  on  me  by  all  means,  assuring  him  that 
he  would  be  as  welcome  as  a  brother.  The  Doctor 
smiled,  and,  with  renewed  thanks,  I  put  on  my  cap, 
picked  up  my  crutches,  saluted  him  a  la  militaire, 
bade  him  a  cheerful  "  good  morning,1'  and  withdrew. 


48  JOHN    SMITH   OX  A   CRUTCH. 


CHAPTER    VI. 

The  Way  Smith  gets  Bored An  Episode. 

T  AVING  taken  a  stroll  of  six  or  seven  hours  about 
(J.  the  city,  I  proceeded  to  Market  street,  and  got  into 
/  the  first  car  going  westward.  Soon  after,  a  digni- 
fied gentleman,  whom  I  liked  the  appearance  of, — and 
I  modestly  think  he  liked  the  looks  of  me, — got  into 
the  car,  and  occupied  a  vacant  seat  directly  opposite. 
He  glanced  at  my  crutches,  then  at  the  vacant  space 
where  my  left  leg  should  have  been,  if  I  had  pos- 
sessed one,  and  said : 

"  How  do  you  do,  sir  ?  You  lost  your  leg  in  the 
army,  I  suppose?" 

Just  here,  reader,  before  I  tell  you  who  this  excel- 
lent gentleman  was,  pardon  a  slight  digression.  Did 
it  ever  occur  to  you  that  one  who  has  lost  a  limb  in 
the  service  of  his  country,  finds  it  necessary  to  an- 
swer u  a  question  or  two  "  now  and  then — to  put  it 
mildly — for  some  time  after  his  return  ?  He  is  looked 
upon  as  public  property,  and  is  almost  bored  to  death 
with  questions,  by  the  many  curious  strangers  he 
meets.  No  one  who  has  not  experienced  it,  can 
imagine  what  a  nuisance  this  quizzing  is.  I  can 
never  have  a  moment's  rest  in  any  public  place.  I 
no  sooner  take  a  seat  in  a  car,  restaurant,  or  lecture- 


THE  WAY  SMITH   GETS   BORED.  49 

room,  than  my  right-hand  or  left-hand  lady  or  gentle- 
man commences.  I  give  below  an  impartial  list  of 
the  questions  they  ask,  and  which  I,  at  first,  answered 
with  pride  and  pleasure  ;  but  which,  however,  after  I 
had  answered  them  a  few  hundred  thousand  times, 
grew  rather  stale.  Here  they  are:  they  have  been 
asked  me  so  often,  as  to  become  stereotyped  upon 
my  heart  and  brain : 

Did  you  lose  your  limb  in  battle  ? 

What  battle? 

Did  a  cannon  ball  take  it  off  ? 

A  rifle  ball,  eh  ? 

Did  it  knock  it  clear  off  ? 

Did  it  sever  an  artery  ? 

Did  it  hit  the  bone  ? 

Did  it  break  it  ? 

Did  you  afterward  find  the  ball? 

Was  it  crushed  out  of  shape  ? 

Did  you  fall  when  hit? 

Did  you  walk  off  the  field? 
•    Who  carried  you  off? 

Did  you  feel  much  pain  ? 

How  long  after  you  were  wounded  till  it  was  am- 
putated  ? 

Who  performed  the  operation  ? 

Did  you  take  chloroform  ? 

Did  it  put  you  to  sleep  ? 

And  didnh;  you  feel  the  operation  ? 

Not  even  the  sawing  of  the  bone  ? 

Could  not  your  limb  have  been  saved  ? 

Was  it  taken  off  right  where  the  wound  was  ? 

Can  yo  i  wear  an  artificial  leg  ? 
4 


^0  JOHN    SMITH   OX   A    CRUTCH. 

Would  the  Government  furnish  it  if  you  could? 

Do  you  draw  a  pension  ? 

How  much  ? 

How  old  are  you? 

What  is  your  name  ? 

What  did  you  do  before  the  war? 

Don't  you  often  wish  you  hadn't  lost  your  leg? 

How  does  a  person  feel  with  a  leg  off? 

Does  it  ache  when  the  weather  changes? 

Would  you  rather  lose  a  leg  than  an  arm  ? 

I  have  heard  persons  say  that  an  amputated  limb 
still  feels  as  if  it  were  on — is  that  so? 

How  do  you  account  for  that? 

Ail  these  questions,  dear  public,  I  have  answered 
thousands  of  times,  and  may  have  to  answer  thou- 
sands of  times  yet.  if  my  miserable  existence  is 
lengthened  out  for  many  years.  Imagine  how  it  must 
torment  me  !  The  same  old  questions,  to  me  long 
since  devoid  of  interest,  I  must  meekly  answer,  over 
and  again,  day  by  day,  week  by  week,  year  by  year! 
How  would  you  like  to  commence  and  repeat  the  A 
B  C's  five  thousand  times  every  day,  as  long  as  you 
live? — Be  pleasant,  wouldn't  it? 

But  this  is  not  all.  After  the  affable  stranger  has 
asked  all  the  ridiculous  questions  he  can  think  of,  he 
commences,  without  being  solicited  for  a  narrative, 
and  entertains  (?)  me  with  a  glowing  (?)  account  of 
the  army  experience  of  one  of  his  relatives — his  son, 
nephew,  cousin,  or  wife's  uncle's  brother's  cousin, 
and  I  must  patiently  listen.  He,  poor  fellow,  goes 
the  story,  wns  wounded,  too:  arm  or  leg  nearly  torn 
off,  barely  hanging  by  a  bit  of  the  hide.     Doctors 


THE  WAY  SMITH   GETS   BO^KD.  51 

wanted  to  carve  it  off.     He   wouldn't   let  'em.     But 

they  said    he'd  die   unless   his   limb   was  amputated 

Said    he'd  die  all  in  one  piece,  then,  and  save  the 

trouble  of  digging  two  graves:  wasn't  going  to  die  a 

piece  at  a  time.     Doctors  said   they   kncw'best   and 

limb  must  come  off.     "Hero"  declared  they  didn't, 

and  that  it  shouldn't  be  cut  off,  and,   moreover,  he'd 

shoot    'em    if  they   tried    it.     Hence,    limb    left    on. 

Patient  got  well,  although  Doctors  said  wouldn't  live 

a   day,   "and   to-day,"   continues  the   narrator,   "the 

limb    is   sounder   and   stronger   than    before   it   was 

wounded."     I  have  heard  ten  thousand  sueh  stories 

told  of  persons  I  never  knew,  never  saw,  and   never 

heard  of,  and  never  wished  to  hear  of.     Yet  I  had  to 

sit  and  listen.     How  interesting!  |  ! 

Nor  is  this  all.  I  occasionally  meet  with  one  who, 
in  addition  to  all  this,  asks  a  few  qu  -stions  and  makes' 
a  few  remarks  too  ridiculous  to  be  believed.  Once, 
a  gentleman  who  had  been  quizzing  me  for  half-an- 
hour  in  a  street-car,  gravely  asked  : 

"  Don't  you  think  there  are  a  great  many  unneces- 
sary legs  taken  off,  by  army  surgeons?" 

He  meant,  I  suppose,  "  legs  "taken  off  unnecessa- 
rily," and  I  thought  so;  but  he  had  been  boring 
me  till  I  felt  pale  and  looked  like  fainting  and  I 
replied: 

"Yes.  I  think  that,  strictly  speaking,  all  that  are 
taken  off  are  unnecessary,  for  those  who  lose  them 
manage  to  live  without  them." 

He  didn't  bother  me  any  more. 

On  a  similar  occasion,  a  gentleman  asked: 

"Do  you  ever  go  away  and  forget  your  crutch?" 


52  JOHN  SMITH   ON  A   CRUTCH. 

When  too  late,  he  perceived  how  ridiculous  the 
question  was;  but  I  gravely  replied: 

"  Yes,  I  once  went  away  and  left  it  standing  in  the 
corner  of  a  restaurant.  I  went  several  hundred 
yards  before  I  missed  it;  and  I  then  had  a  deuce  of 
a  time  getting  back  to  it." 

Another  once  thoughtfully  asked: 

"Now,  suppose  you  had  lost  your  left  arm  instead 
of  vour  left  leg,  where  would  you  have  placed  your 
crutch  ?"  He  never  considered  that  in  such  a  case  it 
would  not  have  been  necessary  for  me  to  use  a  crutch 
at  all. 

"  Then,"  I  replied,  "  I  would  have  used  the  crutch 
under  the  right  shoulder,  and  a  cane  in  my  left 
hand." 

Another  idiot,  one  day,  after  having  asked  the 
usual  questions  and  entertained  me  with  the  usual 
incidents,  consolingly  remarked: 

"  Well,  you  don't  have  to  pay  so  much  for  shoes." 

11 1  never  pay  any  thing  for  shoes,"  I  replied. 

11  For  boots  then,"  he  suggested,  with  a  complacent 
smile. 

"  No,  nor  for  boots  either,"  I  replied. 

"  Why  so?"  he  asked,  with  some  curiosity. 

"  I  buy  neither  boots  nor  shoes." 

"How  then?" 

"  I  buy  only  one.11 

Thus,  dear  public,  am  I.  John  Smith,  tormented 
for  having  sacrificed  a  leg  for  my  country.  How 
often  have  I  felt  that  I  would  be  far  happier  if  I 
were  still  a  mark  for  the  bullets  at  Malvern  Hill, 
Bull  Run,  or  Antietam !     This  accursed  quizzical  dis- 


THE  WAY   SMITH    GETS   BORED.  53 

position  on  the  part  of  the  public  has  made  me  feel, 
at  times,  that  life  was  actually  a  burden  to  me ! 

One  day  I  met  an  elderly  lady  in  Philadelphia  who 
stopped  me  on  the  street,  asked  a  profusion  of  ques- 
tions, and  wound  up  by  giving  me  an  accurate  history 
of  her  son.  She  said  he  had  gone  into  the  army,  had 
been  missing  ever  since  a  certain  battle,  and  she 
feared  he  was  no  more.  Ever  after  that,  whenever 
we  met — and  it  happened  frequently — she  would  hail 
me,  commence  with,  "  I've  never  heard  from  my  son 
yet !"  and  talk  at  me  till  I  felt  weak  in  the  knee. 
At  last,  I  met  her  one  day,  and  pretending  I  did  not 
see  her,  I  was  passing  by,  when  I  felt  her  grasp  on 
my  elbow,  and  was  obliged  to  stop. 

11  My  son's  dead,"  she  said.  "  I've  heard  from  his 
officers,  and  they  say  he  was  killed." 

O,  how  I  envied  him !  Sleeping  peacefully  in  a 
quiet  grave,  somewhere,  with  nothing  to  trouble  him, 
and  no  one  to  torment  him  with  questions,  he  must 
have  been  happy  compared  with  the  wretched  John 
Smith !  The  old  lady  began  again  to  give  me  his  full 
history,  as  she  had  related  it  to  me  many  times  be- 
fore, while  the  cold  perspiration  started  from  my 
frame,  and  I  felt  as  though  death  was  not  two  doors 
from  me. 

Thus  am  I  bored  without  mercy.  No  one  spares 
me,  except  such  as  have  been  in  the  army  themselves. 
Men,  women,  children,  foreigners,  fools  and  even 
negroes,  subject  me  to  this  systematic  torture. 

One  day  I  was  walking  in  front  of  the  Naval 
Asylum,  when  two  little  girls  passed  me,  on  their 


54  JOHN    SMITH    ON   A   CRUTCH. 

way  to  school.  When  they  had  passed,  I  heard  one 
of  them  say : 

"  O,  look  at  that  man  with  one  leg !" 

"Hush!"  said  the  other.  "How  would  you  like 
it  if  your  pa  had  but  one  leg  and  a  little  girl  would 
call  out  that  way." 

u  He  aint  anybody's  pa,"  retorted  the  first. 

"  How  dn  you  know  ?"  rejoined  the  other. 


JOHN  smith's  friend.  55 


CHAPTER    VII. 

John    Smith's   Ff^end. 

NOW  let  me  proceed.  The  gentleman  in  the 
Market-street  car  spared  me.  The  questions 
/  he  asked  were  few  and  to  the  point.  He  was 
an  exception.  When  I  replied  in  the  affirmative  to 
his  first  question,  he  said 

"  Where  do  y<>u  live?" 

11  In  Western  Pennsylvania,"  I  replied. 

"  Where  are  you  staying  now  ?" 

uIn  Haddington  Hospital." 

"I  suppose  you  will  soon  be  discharged?" 

u  Yes,  I  shall  soon  take  my  discharge." 

"  Have  you  any  employment  in  view  ?" 

"  No,  sir  ;  none." 

"If  you  would  like  to  remain  in  Philadelphia 
awhile,  when  discharged  from  the  service,  I  will  get 
you  a  situation." 

This  rather  took  me  by  surprise,  but  I  had  the  pres- 
ence of  mind  to  say, 

u  Thank  you  :  I  think  I  would  like  it." 

11  Then,"  said  he,  "  call  at  my  office  near  Fifth  and 
Chestnut  and  I  will  do  as  I  promise.  My  name  is 
H*-******.  I  am  United  States  Marshal." 

"  I  am  truly  obliged,"  I  said. 


56  JOHN   SMITH    ON    A    CRUTCH. 

"  Not  at  all,"  he  returned.  "  When  I  do  any  thing 
for  a  soldier  I  am  only  paying  an  honest  debt.'' 

I  returned  to  Haddington  in  triumph,  and  ex- 
hibited my  pass  to  the  assistant  surgeon  who  had  put 
me  in  the  guard-house. 

"Didn't  you  know,"  said  I,  with  dignity,  "that 
Doctor  Levis  and  I  were  particular  friends?" 

"No,"  said  he,  turning  slightly  pale.  "Are — are 
you  acquainted?" 

"  Acquainted  1"  said  I.  "  I  should  think  so  I  We've 
known  each  other  for — for — I  don't  know  how  long." 

I  didn't  know  exactly  how  long,  but  knew  it  was 
something  short  of  twenty-four  hours. 

"  Ah  ?  You  should  have  told  me.  I  am  sorry. 
Well,  go  in  and  out  of  the  hospital  whenever  you 
please." 

"  I  will,"  said  I. 

From  that  time  forth  I  had  perfect  liberty,  during 
my  stay  at  the  hospital. 

In  June  I  got  my  artificial  leg,  which  I  have  never 
worn  much — finding  a  crutch  and  cane  far  superior  as 
a  means  of  locomotion — and  having  received  my  dis- 
charge, I  called  one  fine  morning  at  the  United  States 
Marshal's  office.  It  was  early,  and  he  had  not  come  in 
yet.  To  pass  the  time,  I  walked  to  the  corner  of  Fifth 
and  Chestnut  streets,  and  stood  for  a  moment  gazing  at 
the  good  old  clock  in  the  State-house  steeple.  Streams 
of  people  were  passing  up  and  down  the  street;  and  I 
had  not  stood  long  before  a  man  came  up  and  held  out 
his  hand  as  though,  I  thought,  to  shake  hands.  Suppos- 
ing him  to  be  some  old  acquaintance,  whose  visage  had 
ikded  from  my  memory  in  the  eours*  ©f  the  sanguinary 


JOHN  smith's  friend.  57 

scenes  through  which  I  had  lately  passed,  I  was 
about  to  seize  his  hand,  and  request  him  to  remind 
me  where  and  when  we  had  last  met,  when  I  observed 
that  there  was  a  ten-cent  note  in  the  extended  hand, 
and  he  seemed  to  be  offering  that  to  me,  and  not  the 
hand.     I  stared  in  astonishment. 

"  Take  it,"  said  he  :  "you're  welcome  to  it." 

I  was  dumb  with  amazement.  Was  the  man  an 
escaped  lunatic?  Might  he  be  dangerous,  like 
Thomas  of  the  hospital  ?  I  felt  like  "  getting." 

"  Take  it,"  he  repeated,  still  presenting  the  trifling 
bit  of  fractional  currency:  "I  owe  it  to  you." 

I  was  still  lost  in  wonder.  Could  it  be  possible 
that  it  was  some  country  gentleman  to  whom  I  had 
lent  the  sum  of  ten  cents  before  the  war,  and  that  he 
was  so  honest  and  upright  as  to  return  it  on  the  first 
opportunity  ?  No,  he  must  be  mistaken.  I  had 
never  seen  him  before,  certainly. 

"  My  dear  sir,"  I  said,  "  you  are  mistaken.  I  never 
lent  you " 

"0,  not  that,"  he  interrupted.  "You've  served 
your  country ;  you've  fought  my  battles  for  me,  while 
I  stayed  at  home ;  youVe  got  crippled,  and  now " 

"  Keally,  sir,"  I  interrupted,  smothering  my 
indignation,  "  I  am  not  in  need  of  pecuniary  assistance. 
On  the  contrary,  my  income  is  ten  thousand  dollars  a 
year."  (That  was  a  big  one.)  "  If  you  wish  to  dc 
good  to  the  amount  of  ten  cents,  pray  give  it  to  some 
one  who  needs  it.  I  thank  you."  I  spoke  the  latter 
words  with  dignity,  and  turned  away  disgusted. 

Since  that  day,  I  have  ever  feared  to  stop  a 
moment  at  a  street  corner,  no  matter  how  tired  I 


58  JOHN   SMITH   ON  A   CRUTCH. 

might  be,  lest  some  other  unpardonable  fool  should 
chance  to  be  near,  and  bring  a  burning  flush  of  crim- 
son to  my  face.  The  idea  of  being  suspected  of  so- 
liciting pecuniary  assistance,  simply  because  I  stood 
resting  at  a  corner  with  a  crutch  in  my  hand !  It 
is  so  revolting  to  me  that  I  can  not  look  back  on 
that  little — extremely  little — incident  without  a  shud- 
der. Another  reward  for  serving  my  country.  O, 
John  Smith  !  John  Smith ! 

I  saw  Mr.  li  **♦.*•*  *  who,  remembering  me 
at  once,  gave  me  a  letter  to  Colonel  C  *  *  *  *  *  *, 
a  blunt,  but  good-hearted  old  soldier,  who  at  once 
procured  me  a  situation  in  the  United  States  Arsenal. 
I  remained  in  my  situation  eight  months,  during 
which  I  saw  a  great  many  queer  things,  and  got  a 
pretty  fair  idea  of  the  purity,  (?)  probity  (?)  and  in- 
tegrity (?)  that  prevail  among  the  men  who  have 
charge  of  such  public  institutions. 


JOHN   THOUGHT   HE   WOULD   LIKE   TO   TRAVEL.   59 


CHAPTER    VIII. 
John  thought  he  would  like  to  Ti\avel. 

|"  HAD  always  been  of  a  literary  turn;  so,  while 
I  employed  in  the  Arsenal,  I  concluded  to  write  a 
/  book,  and  give  to  the  world,  therein,  an  account 
of  soldier  life,  as  I  had  experienced  it;  and  I  had  very 
little  doubt  that  eighty  or  ninety  thousand  dollars 
might  be  made  out  of  it.  I  carried  out  my  determina- 
tion, writing  in  the  evenings,  after  my  daily  labors; 
and  when  I  left  the  Arsenal,  I  had  completed  the 
manuscript  of  my  work,  which,  when  published,  a  few 
months  after,  constituted  a  duodecimo  volume  of  over 
four  hundred  pages  * 

I  did  not  make  "eighty  or  ninety  thousand"  out  of 
the  work,  as  my  sanguine  nature  had  led  me  to 
anticipate;  but  I  made  a  "few  thousand,"  and  I 
concluded  to  travel  a  little  and  see  some  of  that  por- 
ti  >n  of  the  world  lying  within  the  boundaries  of  the 
United   States:    and   it   was    while   thus    traveling, 

*  Our  Boys.  Comprising-  the  personal  experiences  of  the 
author  while  in  the  array,  and  embracing  some  of  the  richest 
and  raciest  scenes  of  array  and  cainp  life  ever  published.  By 
A.  F.  Hill,  of  the  Eighth  Pa.  Reserves.  With  portrait  of  the 
author  on  st«>el.  and  several  characteristic  illustrations  on  wood. 
12mo.     Cloth,  price  $1.75. 

(John  E.  Potter  &  Co.,  Publishers,  Philadelphia.) 


60  JOHN   SMITH    ON   A   CRUTCH. 

chiefly  in  our  own  country,  that  I  met  with  a  great 
many  funny  adventures  which  I  shall  relate  in  this 
book. 

The  first  time  I  visited  New  York,  I  went  to  re- 
main a  few  weeks  as  correspondent  of  a  Pennsylvania 
newspaper.  I  think  any  stranger's  first  impression 
of  Gotham  is,  that  it  is  a  busy  sort  of  a  place;  and 
the  longer  he  stays  there  the  more  he  "  keeps  on 
thinking  so."  The  bustle  of  Broadway  has  been  so 
frequently  dilated  upon,  that  I  will  not  attempt  to 
enter  upon  a  regular  description  of  it.  It  must  be 
seen  to  be  appreciated;  and  I  concluded  to  see  it  the 
first  thing.  So  I  hailed  an  omnibus  that  came 
thundering  along,  and  somewhat  astonished  the 
driver  by  climbing  nimbly  to  the  top  of  it,  instead  of 
taking  a  seat  within. 

11  You  get  up  quicker  than  a  two-legged  man,"  was 
his  brief  comment. 

"  HaviVt  so  much  weight  to  pull  up,"  I  replied  ; 
and  paid  my  fare. 

From  my  lofty  perch  I  had  a  good  view  up  and 
down  Broadway,  as  well  as  on  each  side.  Number- 
less pedestrians  thronged  the  sidewalks,  while  vehi- 
cles, of  all  kinds,  shapes  and  sizes,  crowded  together, 
rolled  along  and  swayed  to  and  fro  in  the  street  like  a 
mighty  torrent. 

We  had  not  proceeded  far  up  Broadway,  when 
cluck!  wrent  one  of  the  front  wheels  of  our  "bus" 
against  another  one  that  was  coming  down — they  got 
tangled  and  a  "jam-up"  ensued.  Although  I  could 
not  see  that  it  was  the  fault  of  either  driver,  they 
cursed  each  other  in  round  terms.     One  driver  swore 


JOHN  THOUGHT  HE  WOULD  LIKE  TO  TRAVEL.  61 

at  the  other,  and  the  other  swore  at  him ;  then  they 
swore  at  each  other,  in  concert,  for  a  quarter  of  a 
minute,  in  the  course  of  which  they  were  very  ear- 
nest and  emphatic  in  advising  each  other  to  emigrate 
to  a  certain  fabled  climate  where  the  mercury  in  the 
thermometer  seldom  falls  to  the  freezing  point.  The 
way  these  drivers  curse  each  other  is  frightful.  If  all 
the  men  told  to  go  to  that  hot  climate  in  the  course 
of  a  year  by  Broadway  drivers,  should  go,  the  place 
would  be  crowded  to  suffocation.  The  expression 
I  refer  to  seems  to  be  a  favorite  one  among  the  driv- 
ers of  vehicles  on  Broadway ;  and  I  presume,  that  on 
that  thoroughfare  there  are  more  men  urged  to  visit 
Erebus  in  one  day,  then  there  are  warned  against  it  in 
all  the  rest  of  the  land  in  a  whole  year. 

For  about  two  miles  up  Broadway,  the  rattle  of 
omnibuses,  express-wagons,  drays,  furniture-cars,  bug- 
gies, barouches,  cabriolets,  etc.,  was  really  bewildering. 
As  I  looked  upon  the  busy  streams  of  men  that 
hurried  along  the  sidewalks — their  faces  all  strange 
to  me,  yet  no  two  alike — and  saw  the  rumbling 
carriages,  all  crowding  forward  as  though  life  de- 
pended on  their  speed,  I  could  not  help  thinking  of 
this  stanza  in  Byron's  Childe  Harold : 

"But  'midst  the  crowd,  the  hum,  the  shock  of  men, 

To  hear,  to  see,  to  feel  and  to  possess, 
And  roam  along  the  world's  tired  denizen, 

With  none  who  bless  us,  none  whom  we  can  bless; 
Minions  of  splendor,  shrinking  from  distress  ! 

None  that  with  kindred  consciousness  endued, 
If  we  were  not,  would  seem  to  smile  the  less, 

Of  all  that  flattered,  followed,  sought  or  sued, 
This  is  to  be  alone  ;  this,  this  is  solitude  1 " 


62  JOHN   SMITH   ON   A   CRUTCH. 

Every  one  who  has  had  any  experience  in  the  matter, 
must  have  observed  that  a  person  is  more  lonely  ill  a 
crowded  city,  where  he  is  unacquainted,  than  in  the 
depths  ol*  the  forest  where  no  human  being  is  seen. 

As  I  had  no  money  to  throw  away,  I  stayed  at  a 
modest  hotel  in  Park  Row,  where  one  could  live  on 
Jess  than  twenty  five  dollars  a  day.  I  shall  never 
forget  a  brief  acquaintance  I  made  there.  The  first 
evening  I  stayed  in  New  York,  I  was  seated  in  the 
hotel  trying  to  make  up  my  mind  whether  to  go  to 
the  theater  or  not,  when  I  observed,  sitting  near  me, 
a  sedate  gentleman  of  prepossessing  exterior,  fifty  or 
sixty  years  old,  and  dressed  in  plain  clothes  and  a 
broad-brimmed  silk  hat,  of  a  grave  and  dignified 
appearance.  I  could  not  help  fancying  that  he  was 
at  least  an  ex-governor,  or  something  of  the  sort; 
and  I  felt  somewhat  flattered  when  he  moved  his 
chair  closer  to  mine,  with  the  obvious  intention  of 
addressing  me.  He  opened  his  mouth  to  speak,  and 
I  nerved  myself  to  reply  with  respectful  dignity, 
when  he  said,  in  a  low  tone : 

11  Would  you  lend  me  fifteen  cents?" 

The  man  was  a  "  dead  beat."  I  resolved  never  to 
place  much  reliance  on  appearances  again. 

Having  made  up  my  mind  to  go  to  the  theater  and 
see  John  E.  Owens  play  "  Solon  Shingle,"  I  walked 
out.  At  the  door  I  met  a  solitary  boot-black,  who 
greeted  me  with,  "black  'em?" 

"You  may  black  it"  I  replied,  "for  you  see  I  have 
only  one  to  black." 

"All  right,"  said  he ;  whereupon  I  seated  myself 


JOHX  THOUGHT  HE  WOULD  LIKE  TO  TRAVEL.  63 

Oil  a  low  railing  that  guarded  a  cellar-way,  and  placed 
my  foot  on  his  box. 

He  had  soon  "shined"  it  sufficiently,  but  was  still 
brushing  away  at  it,  when  I  said: 

u  There,  that  will  do;  what  do  you  charge?" 

The  dirty,  ragged  little  fellow  looked  thought- 
fully and  earnestly  up  into  my  face,  and  replied  : 

"  0,  I  won't  charge  you  any  thing  ;  you're  only  got 

I  compelled  him  to  accept  a  ten-cent  note,  of  course, 
assuring  him  that  I  had  "  bushels  of 'em;"  but  the 
intention  was  no  less  kind  in  him ;  and  such  a  noble 
thought,  though  the  poor  little  heart  from  which  it 
sprung  be  clothed  in  rags  and  filth,  will  shine  in 
heaven  when  the  rust  has  long  covered  and  hidden 
the  millions  of  gold  which  men  of  wealth  have  con- 
tributed to  "charitable  institutions!" 

Before  leaving  New  York,  (which  is  ironically 
styled  Gotham,  from  an  old  English  town  noted  for 
the  stupidity  of  its  citizens,)  let  me  say  one  word 
about  its  early  history.  New  York,  the  great  com- 
mercial metropolis  of  this  country,  is  built  on  an 
island  fourteen  miles  long,  and  from  one  fourth  of  a 
mile  to  two  miles  and  a  half  wide,  called,  originally, 
Manhattan  Island.  This  island  was  purchased  from 
the  Indians  many  years  ago  for  twenty-four  silver 
dollars.  No  wonder  that  race  of  people  have  had  such 
bad  kick  during  the  last  century ;  for  any  p  ople  who 
would  extort  such  a  sum  of  money  from  simple,  in- 
offensive Europeans,  don't  deserve  any  providential 
favors.  Poor,  impoverished  New  York  has  been 
struggling  ever  since  to  get  out  of  debt,  but  in  vain ; 


64  JOHN    SMITH   OX   A   CRUTCH. 

this  colossal  sum,  which  the  heartless  savages  de- 
manded in  ready  hard  cash,  completely  "strapped" 
the  mayor  and  city  council,  and  they  have  never 
been  able  to  struggle  up  to  an  independent  pecuniary 
position  since. 

Shortly  before  leaving  the  city,  I  was  taking  my 
usual  stroll,  when,  turning  the  corner  of  Broadway 
and  Fulton  street  rather  abruptly,  I  accidentally 
planted  my  crutch  fairly  upon  the  unfortunate  toes 
of  an  elderly  gentleman.  He  proved  to  be  one  of  the 
irascible  sort — and  no  doubt  it  did  hurt  like  the 
deuce — and  he  turned  angrily  toward  me,  brandished 
a  cane,  and  vociferated : 

"  ****'*  fire  and  ***nation !  If  you  were  not  a 
one-legged  man  I'd  knock  your  head  off!" 

Thus,  you  see,  that  having  lost  a  leg  saved  my 
head. 

I  felt  a  little  riled  at  first,  but  seeing  that  he  was 
an  old  man,  I  curbed  my  fiery  passion  and  calmly 
replied : 

"  If  I  were  not  a  one-legged  man,  sir,  I  would  not  be 
using  a  crutch  ;  and  hence  it  wouldn't  have  happened." 
And  we  went  our  ways. 

Without  getting  robbed,  or  garroted,  or  murdered 
in  cold  blood — in  fact  without  getting  "  done  "  in  any 
shape,  I  spent  several  weeks  in  New  York,  visiting 
many  places  of  interest  in  the  vicinity,  such  as  Central 
Park,  High  Bridge,  and  the  various  islands  in  the 
bay  and  harbor ;  and  finally  returned  to  Philadelphia, 
my  adopted  city,  with  the  impression  that  New  York 
wasn't  such  a  bad  place  after  all. 


SEA-SICK.  65 


CHAPTER     IX. 

Sea-Sick Ugh  ! 

TN  January,  1865,  I  concluded  to  visit  the  New- 
England — otherwise  called  the  "  Yankee "  or 
/  "  Eastern  " — States  ;  and  thought  I  would  at  once 
strike  for  Boston,  Massachusetts,  which  is  called  the 
"  Hub  of  the  Universe,"  and  make  that  city  my  head- 
quarters during  my  stay  in  the  ';  land  of  steady 
habits:"  that  means  the  six  New  England  States: 
Maine,  New  Hampshire,  Vermont,  Massachusetts, 
Rhode  Island,  and  Connecticut.  The  habits  of  the 
people  of  all  the  rest  of  the  United  States  are  very 
unsteady. 

I  fancied  that  a  "sea  voyage "  must  be  a  delightful 
thing,  according  to  all  that  poets  and  novelists  had 
said  about  the  "  deep  blue  sea,"  the  "  ocean  wave," 
the  "  rolling  deep,"  and  the  like ;  so,  I  determined  to 
go  by  sea.  I  took  passage  aboard  a  large  propeller 
one  squally  day,  and  away  we  went,  amid  the  ice  and 
snow,  down  the  Delaware  river,  down  the  bay,  and 
out  upon  the  bosom  of  the  "  might}?"  deep."  Yes,  and 
it  is  "  mighty  deep,"  as  Davie  Crockett  would  have 
said — a  "  mighty  sight"  deeper  than  is  really  neces- 
sary, merely  for  the  encouragement  of  navigation  and 
the  cultivation  of  whales  and  sharks ! 
5 


66  JOHH    SMITH   ON  A   CRUTCH. 

I  bad  heard  of  such  a  thing  as  "sea-sickness,"  but  I 
believed  it  was  hah*  imagination,  and  that  any  brave 
heart  could  bear  up  against  it.  In  a  word,  I  resolved 
not  to  get  "  sea-sick "  myself.  The  mate  of  the 
vessel  told  me  that  it  was  "  more  than  likely "  I 
would  feel  a  little  u  squeamish  "  when  we  should  get 
out  where  it  was  M  rough  " — that  was,  if  I  had  never 
been  to  sea  before.     I  didn't  believe  it,  though. 

We  started  on  Saturday  morning,  and  it  took  us 
all  d;iy  to  get  "outside."  During  that  time  I  eat 
three  hearty  meals  on  board  the  propeller,  for  travel- 
ing on  the  water  lent  me  an  appetite.  It  was  only 
lent,  for  I  returned  it. 

Well,  about  dark  that  evening,  we  got  out  where  it 
was  "  rough."  The  vessel  began  to  roll,  pitch,  and 
plunge,  and  I  heard  the  sea  roaring,  the  waves  splash- 
ing over  the  deck,  a  few  loose  articles  on  board 
rattling  and  tumbling  about ;  and  I  began  to  wonder 
if  everything  about  the  vessel  was  secure.  I  sat  on 
a  sofa  in  the  cabin,  and  presently,  I  began  to  feel — 
well,  I  felt,  in  a  word,  that  a  "  voyage  "  was,  like  all 
other  enjoyments,  not  quite  what  one  anticipates; 
but  still,  well  enough.  Then,  immediately,I  felt  a 
little — just  a  little — "  worse."  I  didn't  like  the  way  the 
cabin  was  throwing  itself  around :  it  made  my  head 
feel  queer.  I  thought  that  if  the  vessel  would  just 
stop  rolling  for  half-a-minute,  I  would  feel  all  right 
again.  It  didn't  stop,  though,  and  I  rapidly  began  to 
feel  all  wrong.     In  a  word,  I  grew  dizzy. 

Dizzy?  0,  no!  That's  no  fair  expression.  I  rather 
felt  as  though  I  was  a  large  cask  filled  a  little  too 
full  of  mixed  white  lead,  putty,  or  something  heavy 


SEA-SICK.  67 

that  way,  and  that  the  head  was  forced  down  upon  it 
with  considerable  pressure — especially  about  the 
stomach,  where  I  fancied  one  of  the  hoops  of  the 
imaginary  cask  might  be  located,  and  about  the 
"brow,"  where  the  upper  hoop  might  be,  did  I  expe- 
rience this  indescribable  heaviness.  I  imagined  the 
heavy  cask  (myself,  John  Smith,)  to  be  rolling  and 
tumbling  about  loose,  and  the  white  lead  or  putty- 
straining  to  get  out.  I  couldn't  stand  that  thought. 
The  mate  came  into  the  cabin,  asked  me  if  I  wasn't 
sick,  remarked  that  I  looked  ''deathly  pale,"  and  ad- 
vised me  to  "turn  in"  as  quickly  as  "  the  law  would 
allow  me." 

"  Where?"  I  asked,  as  I  rapidly  grew  sicker.  "0, 
dear!  Where'll  I  sleep?" 

"  Here !"  he  said,  hastily  opening  a  stateroom  door 
very  near  me.  "  Get  in  there.  I'll  help  you.  Take 
the  lower  bunk.  You  will  be  the  only  passenger  in 
this  room."  In  fact,  there  were  but  few  passengers 
aboard. 

As  I  attempted  to  rise,  the  ship  gave  a  playful 
lurch,  laid  over  on  her  side,  then  quickly  tossed  her- 
self upon  the  other  side,  and  if  the  mate  had  not 
caught  me,  I  should  have  plunged  clear  across  the 
cabin  and  tumbled  back  again,  far  more  quickly  than 
a  man  could  have  walked  it.  My  crutch  and  cane 
escaped  me,  however,  striking  an  opposite  stateroom 
door  in  less  than  a  second,  and  throwing  themselves 
savagely  about  over  the  cabin  floor. 

"  Never  mind  them  just  now,"  said  the  mate.  "  I'll 
help  you  in."     And  he  helped  me  in. 


68  JOHN    SMITH   OS  A   CRUTCH. 

"  There's  a  bucket  banging  to  the  side  of  the  berth," 
said  he.   "  If  you  should  feel  a  little  sick " 

Ugh!  Human  nature  couldn't  stand  it  any  longer. 
I  tumbled  recklessly  into  the  berth,  and — O,  wasn't  1 
sick  !  Even  now,  after  the  lapse  of  several  years,  I 
shudder  to  think  of  it!  Supper,  dinner,  breakfast — 
all  eaten  in  vain  !  Bauh-gosh-gslish-shesh  I  O,  lordy ! 
The  ship  was  tossing  about  like  a  man  intoxicated, 
and  I,  worse  still,  was  tossing  about  like  a  man  sick 
drunk ;  I  heard  the  wind  howling,  for  it  was  blowing 
hard,  the  waves  dashing  overhead,  the  ship  creaking 
and  groaning;  and  I  groaned,  and  prayed  for  land  or 
death  !  Then  I  regretted  that  I  had  ever  been  born. 
I  also  reproached  the  fates  for  having  sent  me  to  sea 
in  such  stormy  weather,  and  solemnly  vowed — and  I 
kept  that  vow  for  nearly  a  year — that,  in  case  I  ever 
reached  land,  (which  I  now  thought  rather  unlikely), 
I  would  never,  never,  never  venture  out  upon  the 
broad  ocean  again  !     0,  0,  O,  0,  Ugh  !    Gushshshsh  ! 

O,  how  I  wished  the  ship  would  stop  rolling  for 
just  a  moment !  But  it  wouldn't  stop  at  all.  It  rolled, 
and  plunged,  and  tossed,  and  tumbled,  and  pitched; 
and  I  got  sicker,  and  sicker,  and  sicker,  till  I  imagined 
myself  at  "  death's  door,"  with  my  hand  on  the  bell- 
handle. 

To  gain  a  slight  conception  as  to  how  I  felt,  fancy 
how  a  boy  would  feel,  if,  when  sick  on  his  first  cigar, 
he  were  not  allowed  to  throw  it  away,  but  forced  to 
retain  it  in  his  mouth  and  smoke  away!  Thus  it  is 
with  one  who  is  sea-sick.  The  motion  of  the  vessel 
causes  it,  and  when  a  fellow  grows  dizzy,  and  feels 
wretched  about  the  bottom  of  the  vest,  he  can't  throw 


SEA-SICK.  69 

that  motion  away,  like  a  cigar.  It  has  made  him  sick, 
it  makes  him  sicker,  and  don't  even  stop  when  he  gets 
"deathly  sick."  To  treat  a  patient  scientifically, 
physicians  remove  the  cause  of  his  illness;  but  in  this 
case,  the  cause — that  is,  the  motion  of  the  vessel — ■ 
cannot  be  removed,  and  there  is  nothing  left  for  the 
unhappy  patient  but  to  get  "used  to  it." 

The  only  thing  I  remember  of  that  fearful  night, 
except  pure,  unbroken,  unalloyed  misery,  is  that  I 
asked  the  captain,  as  he  passed  through  the  cabin,  if 
it  was  actually  storming.     He  carelessly  replied : 

"  0,  it's  only  blowing  a  fresh  little  nor'-wester ;"  and 
passed  on. 

A  fresh  little  nor'-wester  I  I  groaned  in  agony,  and 
rolled  about  in  my  berth,  thinking  that  if  that  was 
only  a  fresh  little  nor'-wester,  what  a  fearful  thing  a 
stale  big  nor'-wester  would  be ! 

Next  morning  at  daylight  the  steward  came  to  my 
berth  and  asked  me  if  I  could  "eat  something?" 
Eat!  Whew?  Ugh!  The  very  thought  came  near 
bringing  on  a  relapse.  "  No,  no,  no !"  I  shuddered ; 
and  buried  my  face  in  my  bunk. 

About  ten  o'clock  he  passed  through  the  cabin, 
and  I  asked  him  if  we  were  "  out  of  sight  o'  land?" 

"  Out  o'  sight  ?"  he  returned.  "  Yes,  and  have  been 
for  ten  hours!" 

I  felt  somewhat  better — in  fact,  a  good  deal  better 
than  during  the  terrible  night  just  passed — and  I  de- 
termined to  make  my  way  to  the  deck  to  view  a 
scene  that  had  never  before  blessed  my  eves.  The 
wind  had  abated,  but  the  waves  ran  high,  and  the 
vessel  was  still  rolling  considerably.     Feeling  light- 


70  JOHN   SMITH   ON   A   CRUTCH. 

headed  and  queer,  I  got  out  of  my  berth,  grasping 
something  all  the  time  to  keep  from  being  spilled  out 
into  the  cabin,  got  my  crutch,  left  my  state-room,  and 
began  to  move  toward  the  companion-way.  By  hug- 
ging the  wall,  grasping  state-room  door-knobs,  and 
the  like,  I  reached  the  foot  of  the  staircase  without 
falling,  and  looking  up — the  hatch  being  open — I  saw 
the  blue  sky  staggering  about  overhead.  Holding 
firmly  to  a  polished  brass  railing,  I  ascended  to  the 
deck  and  took  a  seat  on  the  companion-hatch. 

Before  me  and  all  around  me  was  the  long  wished- 
for  sight.  Our  ship,  the  dark-green  sea,  the  sun,  the 
clear  blue  sky  and  a  few  wild  sea-birds  flitting  about, 
were  all  that  the  eye  could  find  to  rest  on.  The  sea 
and  sky  met  on  all  sides,  forming  a  grand  and  mighty 
circle  around  us.  I  remember  remarking  to  myself, 
in  my  enthusiasm,  that  to  see  such  a  sight  as  this, 
was  "  worth  risking  a  fellow's  life  !" 

To  do  "  old  ocean  "  justice,  I  must  say  that  there  is 
nothing  in  the  world  more  delightful  than  to  be  at 
sea  a  little  while  in  mild  weather ;  but  when  a  gale  is 
blowing,  as  I  have  since  seen  it,  the  ship  going  to 
pieces  every  hour,  and  the  waves  foaming,  and  snarl- 
ing, and  gnashing  their  teeth,  as  it  were,  in  their  im- 
patience to  get  you  and  strangle  you ;  then  you  natu- 
rally wish  there  wasn't  such  a  thing  as  a  sea  in  the 
world ;  or  that  your  lot  had  been  cast  in  the  "  new 
world,"  where  "  there  was  no  more  sea."  (Kevela- 
tions  xxi.  1.) 

On  Monday  we  came  in  sight  of  Cape  Cod,  and  I 
thought  we  should  never  get  round  it.  Those  who 
have  noticed  Cape  Cod  on  the  map  have  no  doubt 


SEA-SICK.  71 

observed  that  it  is  shaped  like  a  human  foot ;  and  we 
went  gliding  along  near  its  sole,  traveling  from  heel 
to  toe.  For  hours,  I  was  every  moment  expecting 
to  go  "  round  the  point,"  which  I  imagined  I  could 
see  all  the  time  a  little  way  ahead :  but  it  kept  re- 
ceding all  the  while,  like  an  ignis  fatuus,  till  I  began 
to  fancy  that  the  foot  belonged  to  some  great  giant, 
who  was  bending  his  knee,  and  drawing  it  back 
stealthily,  in  order  to  straighten  it  out  again  and  give 
us  a  kick. 


72  JOHN    SMITH    ON   A   CRUTCH. 


CHAPTER    X. 

The    4i  Hub." 

WE  arrived  in  Boston  Harbor  Monday  afternoon 
about  four  o'clock,  and  entered  a  very  dense 
fog  about  the  same  time.  The  fog  was  so  thick 
for  several  minutes  that  objects  could  not  be  seen 
from  one  end  of  the  vessel  to  the  other.  The  engine 
was  quickly  stopped,  and  we  narrowly  escaped  a  col- 
lision with  a  steamer.  But  in  the  course  of  ten 
minutes,  the  heavy  mist  swept  down  the  harbor  in  a 
body,  and  left  all  clear  around  us;  when  we  were 
somewhat  surprised  to  find  ourselves  within  one  hun- 
dred yards  of  the  shore.  We  floated  up  to  the  pier 
at  the  foot  of  State  street ;  the  propeller  was  soon 
made  fast,  and  I  immediately  went  ashore,  in  the 
midst  of  a  soaking  rain  that  seemed  to  be  sent  just 
then  for  my  express  benefit.  I  got  into  a  carriage- 
one  that  had  sleigh-runners  substituted  for  wheels — 
and  rode  to  a  good  comfortable  hotel  which  the  Cap- 
tain had  recommended. 

It  rained  till  after  dark ;  and,  in  fact,  I  retired  to 
my  room,  went  asleep  and  left  it  raining.  I  re- 
member that  I  heard  some  one  remark,  just  before  I 
retired,  that  if  it  kept  on  raining, — he  didn't  say  how 
long — it  would  spoil  the  sleighing,  and  wheels  would 


THE   HUB.  73 

come  into  requisition  again :  for  in  the  New  England 
States,  especially  Massachusetts,  and  those  lying 
north  of  it,  a  vehicle  with  wheels  is  seldom  seen  in 
the  depth  of  winter.  The  sleighing  usually  con- 
tinues good  till  spring,  and  the  wheels  are  removed 
for  a  time  from  all  vehicles,  and  runners  are  adjusted 
in  their  stead.  Not  even  the  street-cars  or  omni- 
buses are  any  exceptions :  they,  too,  cease  to  rattle, 
roll  and  rumble  over  the  streets,  and  go  gliding  about 
with  so  little  noise  that  one  gets  the  queer  idea  into 
his  head  that  they  are  barefooted. 

Next  morning  I  discovered  that  it  had  cleared  off, 
and  that  the  thermometer  had  gracefully  descended  to 
zero.  [Well,  that  was  nothing^]  In  fact,  during  the 
ensuing  six  weeks  which  I  spent  in  the  New  England 
States,  the  sleighing  continued  excellent,  and  the 
thermometer  ranged  pretty  generally  from  about  five 
degrees  above  zero  to  five  below.  To  be  sure,  we 
had  a  cool  night  or  two,  now  and  then,  when  it 
went  down  to  ten  or  fifteen  below;  but  no  one 
thought  much  of  that.  Such  is  the  character  of  the 
winter  in  New  England — the  good  old-fashioned  kind 
that  a  fellow  likes  to  see. 

I  glanced  over  toward  Charlestown  early  on  the 
morning  after  my  arrival,  beheld  Bunker  Hill  Monu- 
ment towering  far  above  the  smoke-stacks  and  steeples 
in  the  perspective ;  and  I  determined  to  visit  it  at  once. 
I  accordingly  climbed  to  the  top  of  an  omnibus,  cold 
as  it  was — for  I  wanted  to  see  all  I  could — and  rode 
over. 

It  is  not  universally  known  that  the  battle  of 
Bunker  Hill  is  so  called  because  it  was  fought  on 


74  JOHN    SMITH   ON   A   CRUTCH. 

Breed's  Hill.  The  latter  is  near  Bunker's  Hill,  and 
it  is  on  Breed's  Hill  that  the  monument  now  stands — 
and  always  has  stood  since  it  was  built,  (for  they 
never  moved  it.)  The  reason  the  battle  was  called 
the  battle  of  Banker  Hill,  and,  consequently,  that  the 
monument  is  styled  the  "Bunker  Hill  Monument," 
is,  that  the  engagement  should  have  been  fought  there. 
Colonel  Prescott  was  sent  with  a  thousand  men  to 
throw  up  earthworks  on  Mr.  Bunker's  Hill,  which 
overlooked  Charlestown  Neck  ;  but  either  mistaking 
his  instructions,  or  not  being  acquainted  with  the 
vicinity,  he  took  possession  of  Breed's  Hill  instead, 
and  threw  up  an  earthwork  there  in  rather  unplea- 
sant proximity  to  the  British  fleet  in  the  harbor. 

The  monument  is  built  of  granite,  is  about  twenty- 
five  feet  square  at  the  base,  and  about  twelve  or  fifteen 
at  the  top ;  which  top  is  accessible  by  means  of  an 
interior  winding  stone  stairway,  dimly  lighted  with 
rather  small  jets  of  gas  that  are  too  few  and  too  far 
between.  At  intervals  of  about  twenty  feet  there  are 
narrow  apertures  to  let  in  air ;  and  that  cold  morning 
they  let  in  too  much.  During  the  previous  night, 
too,  the  rain  had  blown  in  and  frozen  on  the  stone 
steps,  so  that  fully  one  half  of  them  were  perfectly 
enameled  with  ice. 

To  ascend  these  with  a  crutch  under  such  circum- 
stances was  no  less  than  a  dangerous  undertaking. 
The  superintendent  advised  me  not  to  try  it,  but  I 
could  not  act  upon  his  advice,  from  the  fact  that  I 
had  "  made  up  my  mind"  to  go  up.  (It's  a  wonder  I 
didn't  "  go  up,"  in  another  way.)  If  there  had  not 
been  a  small  iron  railing  to  cling  to,  I  could  never 


THE  HUB.  75 

bave  reacted  the  head  of  that  almost  interminable 
staircase.  As  it  was,  I  came  near  falling  backward, 
and  only  saved  myself  by  clutching  this  railing. 

Should  one  start  to  fall  down  these  steps,  nothing 
would  save  him.  They  wind  around  and  around, 
with  here  and  there  only  a  narrow  landing,  not  more 
than  twice  the  width  of  a  stair,  and  too  narrow  to 
arrest  the  progress  of  a  descending  form.  One  might 
as  well  leap  down  from  the  top,  either  outside  or 
within  the  circular  shaft  around  which  the  stairs 
wind,  as  to  go  tumbling  around  and  around,  down, 
down,  down,  the  solid  spiral  stairway,  thumped  and 
beaten  by  the  edges  of  two  or  three  hundred  stone 
steps ;  for  in  either  case  I  suppose  that  brandy  and 
water  wouldn't  save  him. 

I  reached  the  top  pretty  tired,  after  having  ascended 
two  hundred  and  ninety-five  icy  steps;  and  from 
this  height  of  two  hundred  feet,  had  a  good  view  of 
Boston,  Charlestown,  Eoxbury,  and  the  harbor. 

Finding  it  rather  cold  up  there— for  there  were 
several  good  sized  windows  open  for  the  wind  to 
blow  in  at,  and  visitors  to  look  out  of— I  soon  made 
up  my  mind  to  descend ;  in  fact  the  cold  was  so 
severe  that  it  had  a  rather  benumbing  effect  on  me; 
and  as  my  thigh  and  the  calf  of  my  leg  fairly  ached 
from  my  recent  exertions,  I  fully  realized  the  danger 
of  descending,  and  fancied  I  would  have  made  a 
considerable  pecuniary  sacrifice  to  be  safely  at  the 
base  of  the  tall  structure.  There  was  no  way  to  get 
there,  however,  but  to  walk  down,  if  it  might  be  so 
called,  and  I  began  the  perilous  descent.  I  was  not 
half  way  down  when  my  crutch  and  cane  both  slipped 


76  JOHX   SMITH    OX   A   CRUTCH. 

from  an  icy  step,  and  I  fell.  O,  what  a  fall  there 
would  have  been,  my  countrymen,  if  I  hadn't  caught 
the  iron  railing !  I  gripped  the  cold  iron  with  my 
right  hand,  and  arrested  my  crutch  with  my  left ;  but 
my  cane  escaped  me,  and  away  it  went,  tumbling  knock- 
ing, cracking  rattling  and  clattering,  till  it  reached  the 
bottom.  I  fancied  it  took  it  something  like  a  minute 
to  make  the  descent,  but  the  probability  is  that  the 
time  it  occupied  in  the  journey  was  not  more  than 
ten  seconds.  It's  last  echo  had  jnst  died  away,  when 
I  heard  the  voice  of  the  superintendent  calling  to  me 
from  below ;  and  his  voice  had  a  kind  of  twisty 
sound  by  the  time  it  wound  its  way  up  to  me. 

*  Did  you  fall?"  he  asked. 

"No,"  I  replied,  telling  a  white  one,  "I  merely 
threw  my  cane  down  because  I  can  get  down  better 
without  it." 

I  did,  however,  get  along  better  without  it,  for  I 
could  now  grasp  the  railing  all  the  time  with  one 
hand  while  the  other  held  the  crutch. 

Well,  it  is  not  m}^  intention  to  write  an  ordinary 
book  of  travels.  That  has  been  done  too  often.  All 
the  places  I  have  visited  have  been  described  time 
and  again ;  and  I  will  only  entertain  the  reader  with 
my  (John  Smith's)  odd  adventures  therein. 

While  in  Boston  I  had  the  pleasure  of  an  introduc- 
tion to  Mrs.  Partington.  That  amiable  old  lady  is  a 
jovial,  round-faced  old  gentleman  of  fifty -five  or  sixty. 
His  name  is  B.  P.  Shillaber,  and  he  is  connected  with 
the  Boston  Gazette.  He  is  a  noble-hearted,  excellent 
gentleman ;  and  the  people  of  this  country  owe  him 


THE   HUB.  77 

their  thanks  for  the  many  happy  smiles  his  eccentric 
and  inimitable  pen  has  called  out  upon  their  faces. 
Long  life  and  many  happy  years  to  Mrs.  Partington  1 

I  remained  in  New  England  during  the  rest  of  the 
winter,  and  had  a  pleasant  time  and  many  sleigh-rides. 
I  visited  Lexington,  Lowell,  Lawrence  and  most  of 
the  large  towns  of  Massachusetts ;  Manchester,  Con- 
cord and  Portsmouth,  New  Hampshire ;  Bellows  Falls, 
Rutland  and  Burlington,  Vermont;  and  Portland  and 
some  smaller  towns  and  cities  in  Maine. 

In  the  city  of  Portland  I  hired  a  horse  and  sleigh 
one  morning,  and  resolved  to  drive  a  few  miles  into 
the  country.  It  was  snowing  vigorously,  but  was 
not  very  cold ;  I  had  a  spirited  horse  before  me ;  a 
good  light  sleigh  under  me  ;  and  away  I  went,  bound- 
ing over  the  road,  neither  knowing  nor  caring  whither 

I  went.  By  and  by,  when  I  had  traveled  five  or  six 
miles,  and  distanced  a  number  of  other  travelers,  in 
similar  vehicles,  on  the  way,  I  saw  a  town  just  ahead 
of  me.  The  snow  was  still  falling  so  briskly  that  I 
was  almost  in  the  town  before  I  saw  it.  As  I  drove 
along,  I  asked  a  boy  what  place  it  was,  and  he  said, 

II  Westbrook."  I  entered  the  village,  and  found  it  to 
be  one  of  considerable  extent.  In  fact,  I  drove  half- 
a-mile,  and  still  there  was  no  end  of  houses.  On  the 
contrary,  they  became  thicker  and  thicker ;  and  I 
began  to  conclude  that  "  Westbrook"  must  be  quite  a 
city.  By  and  by  I  found  myself  on  a  street  that  re- 
minded me  forcibly  of  one  I  had  seen  in  Portland ; 
and,  what  made  it  more  remarkable,  I  observed  that 
it  rejoiced  in  the  same  name.  What  a  coincidence  I 
But  I  marveled  more  still,  as  I  followed  this  street  a 


78  JOHN    SMITH   OX  A   CRUTCH. 

little  way  and  passed  an  hotel  that  was  the  very  im- 
age of  the  one  I  stayed  at  in  Portland — and  lo !  there 
stood  at  the  door  a  porter  who  was  dark-skinned  and 
cross-eyed,  exactly  like  the  porter  of  my  hotel  in  that 
city!  Was  I  dreaming?  No,  not  exactly;  but  I 
must  have  been  during  my  drive,  for  I  had  wandered 
around  among  the  country  roads  in  the  snow-storm, 
lost  my  reckoning,  and  actually  entered  Portland 
again.  I  had  come  in  through  a  little  suburban  vil- 
lage, north  of  the  city,  called  "  Westbrook ;"'  and 
hence  my  delusion. 

In  Eutland,  a  beautiful  little  city  nestling  in  a  kind 
of  basin  high  up  among  the  Green  Mountains  of  Ver- 
mont, I  arrived  one  night  at  a  late  hour.  I  went  to 
a  good  comfortable  hotel — for  they  have  such  there— 
and  asked  for  a  "  single  room."  The  host  regretted 
that  he  had  no  single  rooms  unoccupied.  Passengers 
from  the  earlier  trains  had  taken  them  all.  He  could 
put  me  in  a  double-bedded  room  where  another  guest 
had  just  retired — one  who  appeared  to  be  a  "  perfect 
gentleman  :"  that  was  the  best  he  could  do.  It  was 
the  best  /could  do,  too ;  so,  I  was  shown  to  the  room. 

I  had  a  few  hundred  dollars  in  my  pocket,  and,  not 
being  perfectly  sure  that  the  man  in  the  other  bed  was 
a  perfect  angel,  I  thought  there  would  be  no  harm  in 
placing  it  in  the  watch-fob  of  my  unimpeachables, 
and  placing  the  same  rolled  up  in  a  ball,  under  my 
neck.  I  did  so.  When  morning  came,  the  "  other 
fellow"  got  up  first,  and  I  felt  somewhat  amused  when 
I  chanced  to  observe — for  I  was  awake,  and  dreading 
to  "turn  out"  on  account  of  the  sharp  morning  air — 


THE   HUB.  79 

that  he  had  done  so  too.  We  had  both  taken  each 
other  for  rogues. 

Well,  that  is  the  right  way  to  view  every  stranger 
when  you  are  traveling.  Look  on  every  man  you  meet, 
and  especially  if  he  speaks  to  you,  as  a  deep-dyed 
villain,  till  you  have  had  the  most  incontrovertible 
proof  that  he  is  not. 

I  made  Boston  my  head-quarters,  while  visiting 
different  portions  of  Maine,  New  Hampshire,  Vermont 
and  Massachusetts ;  and  about  the  lust  of  February,  I 
departed  for  Philadelphia.  I  didn't  try  the  "  dark- 
blue  sea"  again ;  but  took  the  "  Shore  Line"  railroad, 
stopping  a  short  time  in  Providence,  New  Haven  and 
New  York. 

I  arrived  in  New  York  one  March  evening,  and, 
allowing  my  baggage  to  go  on  to  Philadelphia,  re- 
solved to  remain  in  the  city  that  night  and  go  to  the 
11  Quaker  City "  next  day.  I  wanted  to  go  via  the 
Camden  and  Amboy  Railroad,  and  was  told  that  the 
boat — for  passengers  on  this  road  take  the  boat  from 
New  York  to  South  Amboy,  a  distance  of  twenty- 
eight  miles — would  leave  at  six  in  the  morning. 
That  evening,  while  in  the  sitting-room  of  my  old 
hotel,  I  observed  two  suspicious-looking  fellows  eye- 
ing me  rather  sharply,  and  I  felt  that  they  were 
entitled  to  a  little  watching  from  me.  So,  1  watched 
them.  When  I  retired,  I  locked  and  bolted  my  door 
and  even  braced  it  with  my  crutch.  [A  handy  thing 
to  have  in  a  house,  sometimes.]  I  slept  soundly  till 
five  o'clock,  at  which  time  the  porter,  according  to 
instructions,  knocked  at  my  door  and  awoke  me. 

There  was  no  one  in  the  hotel  below,  when  I  went 


80  JOHN"    SMITH    ON   A   CRUTCH. 

down  but  a  sleepy  porter,  and  I  was  wondering 
wh  re  my  suspicious-looking  friends  (?)  were,  and 
where  they  stayed,  and  congratulating  myself  that  I 
was  escaping  them  nicely  by  going  away  at  that  early 
hour  in  the  morning,  when. the  street-door  opened 
and  the  two  identical  gentlemen  stepped  in,  and  took 
a  seat  by  the  stove.  Pretending  not  to  notice  them, 
1  stepped  out. 

It  was  still  far  from  daylight,  and  the  snow  was 
flying  merrily.  The  wind  was  howling,  and  each 
blaze  of  gas  in  the  street-lamps  was  fluttering  and 
struggling  as  though  it  might  go  out  at  any  moment. 
I  wanted  to  go  to  Pier  No.  1,  North  River,  from 
which  the  boat  was  to  start,  and  1  walked  as  fast  as  I 
could — and  that  was  not  slow — toward  Broadway, 
glancing  back  over  my  shoulder  at  intervals  of  two 
seconds,  to  see  if  my  villains  were  coming.  It  was 
the  quietest  hour  I  ever  saw  in  New  York.  Not  a 
stage,  carriage,  cart  or  car  was  astir  in  that  part  of 
the  city  ;  and  neither  policeman  nor  "any  other  man" 
was  to  be  seen.  The  snow  and  wind  combined  were 
fairly  blinding,  and  it  was  very  far  from  being  a 
''fine  morning." 

I  had  nearly  reached  Broadway,  when  I  looked 
back  and  saw  the  two  dears  coming,  a  square  distant. 
They  were  passing  a  lamp-post,  and  the  glimpse  I 
caught  of  their  figures  convinced  me  of  their  iden- 
tity. Without  exhibiting  any  haste  or  trepidation,  I 
walked  on  to  the  corner  of  Broadway  and  Park  EoW 
and  turned  to  the  left ;  but  instead  of  walking  down 
Broadway,  suddenly  stepped  aside  and  stood  in  the 
door- way  of  Barnum's  old  Museum — which  was  still 


THE   HUB.  81 

standing  at  that  time,  but  over  whose  ashes  Bennett's 
majestic  marble  palace  now  stands — leaned  my  cane 
up  in  a  corner,  drew  my  revolver,  cocked  it,  and 
awaited  the  attack. 

I  had  just  completed  my  preparations  for  a  defence 
of  my  position,  when  the  happy  pair  came.  The  light 
of  a  street-lamp  at  the  corner  shone  full  upon  them, 
and  I  must  have  been  blind  indeed  if  I  had  not  re- 
cognized them.  Their  hats  were  drawn  down  over 
their  eyes,  to  shield  those  organs  from  the  driving 
snow,  and  as  I  was  in  the  shade,  they  failed  to  see  me, 
and  rushed  by.  They  were  running,  their  footsteps 
soon  died  away,  and  their  "forms"  faded  down  Broad- 
way, which  was  then  as  quiet  as  a  country  lane.  I 
was  very  well  satisfied  to  escape  an  encounter  with 
them,  because  I  preferred  not  to  shoot  them,  as  I 
would  certainly  have  found  it  necessary  to  do  had 
they  seen  me. 

I  knew  they  would  soon  discover  that  I  had 
dodged  them,  and  return ;  so,  replacing  my  revolver, 
taking  my  cane,  and  keeping  an  eye  down  Broadway, 
I  glided  across  the  silent  thoroughfare,  went  down 
Vesey  Street  to  North  River,  and  thence  down  West 
Street  to  Pier  No.  1,  which  was  not  really  much  oat 
of  my  way. 

I  reached  the  boat  in  good  time,  and  arrived  in 
Philadelphia  that  day  by  twelve  o'clock. 
6 


82  JOHN    SMITH   ON   A   CRUTCH. 


CHAPTER     XI. 

Narrow   Escape   in  a  Row   at  Baltimore. 

ABOUT  the  middle  of  March  I  concluded  to  take 
a  tour  to  Baltimore,  Harper's  Ferry,  Antietam 
Battle-field,  Hagerstown  and  Harrisburg :  at 
all  of  which  places — and  especially  Antietam — I  had 
been  before.  I  intended  to  occupy  three  or  four 
weeks,  and  made  arrangements  to  act  meantime  as 
correspondent  for  a  paper. 

Nothing  unusual  happened  to  me  on  the  way  to 
Baltimore,  except  that  on  looking  from  a  car  window 
at  Havre  de  Grace,  a  small  particle  of  cinder  from 
the  engine  flew  into  my  eye;  which  kept  it  red  and 
inflamed,  and  furnished  me  with  first-class  pain,  at  in- 
tervals, for  the  ensuing  two  weeks. 

A  bit  of  cinder  from  a  locomotive,  with  all  its 
"fine  points,"  is,  I  think,  the  severest  thing  that  can 
work  its  way  into  a  man's  optic  organ.  Had  rail- 
roads been  in  vogue  in  the  days  of  King  John,  what 
a  point  young  Arthur  might  have  made,  when  remon- 
strating with  Hubert  who  had  been  authorized  to 
burn  his  eyes  out  with  a  red-hot  poker,  and  elo- 
qusntly  descanting  on  the  sensitiveness  of  the  eye, 
by  reminding  him  how  it  felt  even  when  a  cinder 


NARROW  ESCAPE   IN  A   ROW  AT   BALTIMORE.     83 

from  a   locomotive  got  into  it.     For  example,  how 
would  the  passage  read  in  this  shape  ? 

11  0.  heaven  !  that  there  were  but  a  mote  in  yours. 
A  grain,  a  dust,  a  gnat,  a  wand'ring  hair, 
Or  the  ten-thousandth  part  of  a  dead  spark 
From  the  smoke-stack  of  a  lo-com'-o-ttve  ; 
Any  annoyance  in  that  precious  sense  ! 
Then,  feeling  what  small  things  are  boisterous  there, 
Your  vile  intent  must  needs  seem  horrible  !" 

It  will  be  perceived  that  the  two  lines  in  italics  are 
my  (John  Smith's)  own  production:  the  rest  is 
Shakspeare's.  I  will  not  venture  to  predict  what 
critics  will  say  of  the  relative  merits  of  the  two 
authors  in  this  case. 

As  the  trains  from  Philadelphia  enter  Baltimore, 
they  cross  a  wide,  clean,  quiet  street,  called  "  Broad- 
way." It  bears  no  resemblance  to  the  Broadway  of 
New  York,  as  it  is  occupied  chiefly  by  private  dwell- 
ings. The  trains  always  stop  there  a  minute  or  two 
to  allow  those  who  wish  to  get  off.  This  street  runs 
north  and  south  and  of  course  crosses  Baltimore 
street,  the  principal  business  thoroughfare,  which 
runs  east  and  west.  The  Baltimore-street  railway 
extends  down  Broadway,  and  as  several  cars  are 
always  in  waiting  when  trains  arrive,  many  passengers 
get  off  the  train  here,  take  a  street-car,  and  ride  into 
the  heart  of  the  city.  I  always  do  so  when  I  visit  the 
11  Monumental  city."  I  did  so  on  this  occasion, 
having  first  instructed  the  baggage-express  agent  to 
send  my  trunk  to  my  hotel. 

As  I  jumped  from  the  train,  (before  it  had  quite 
stopped,)  and  walked  toward  the  street-car  that  stood 


84  JOnX    SMITH    ON   A   CRUTCH. 

waiting  on  Broadway,  a  soldier  approached  me,  and 
tapping  me  familiarly  on  the  shoulder,  said: 

"  Why,  Locke  !  how  are  you  ?" 

I  saw  at  a  glance  that  he  had  mistaken  me  for  some 
one  else,  and  soberly  replied: 

"  I  believe  this  isn't  I." 

"0,  so  it  isn't!  Excuse  me,''  he  said,  perceiving 
his  mistake  and  laughing  at  my  joke. 

I  got  into  a  crowded  car  and  rode  to  my  hotel  on 
West  Baltimore  street;  for  the  principal  street  is 
divided  into  East  and  West  Baltimore  streets  by  a 
canal,  which  it  crosses  near  the  center  of  the  city. 

Having  a  week  or  two  before  me,  with  very  little 
to  do,  I  determined  to  see  all  the  places  of  interest  in 
the  vicinity,  for  I  had,  theretofore,  neglected  to  visit 
them,  although  I  had  frequently  been  in  Baltimore.  I 
had  never  even  visited  the  Washington  Monument 
there. 

Here  let  me  commend  Baltimore  for  being  the 
only  city  that  has  ever  erected  a  monument  to  the 
memory  of  that  pure-hearted  patriot  to  whom  we  are 
indebted  for  our  liberties  and  free  institutions — 
George  Washington! 

Baltimore  has  another  monument  which  was  erected 
in  honor  of  the  Maryland  soldiers  who  fell  in  the 
war  of  1812;  and  is  hence  styled  the  "  Monumental 
City." 

The  Washington  Monument  is  indeed  quite  a  fine 
structure.  It  is  built  of  marble  to  the  height  of 
about  two  hundred  feet,  and  its  top  is  adorned  with  a 
large  statue  of  the  "Father  of  His  Country."  Within, 
is  a  spiral  stairway  of  stone,  like  that  in  the  Bunker 


NARROW   ESCAPE   IN   A   ROW   AT   BALTIMORE.     85 

Hill  Monument;  but  it  is  not  lighted  with  gas,  nor 
has  it  any  embrasures  for  the  admission  of  air  and 
daylight.  The  superintendent,  or  some  one  employed 
for  the  purpose,  accompanies  each  visitor,  who  wishes 
to  ascend,  carrying  a  lantern.  He  may  well  be 
termed  a  man  who  has  a  great  many  "  ups  and  downs" 
in  the  world.  From  the  top  of  this  monument,  the 
view  of  the  city  is  excellent ;  almost  every  house  in 
it  can  be  seen. 

Of  course,  I  visited  this  monument,  but  as  nothing 
extraordinary  occurred,  and  especially  nothing  funny, 
I  will  not  entertain  the  reader  with  a  full  description 
of  my  visit,  nor  of  the  monument  itself. 

I  was  always  fond  of  rowing,  and  as  the  weather 
was  mild  and  pleasant  next  day,  I  concluded  to  go 
down  to  the  harbor,  hire  a  boat  and  take  a  row.  I 
was  told  that  I  could  get  one  at  the  foot  of  a  little 
street  running  obliquely  toward  the  piers  from  the 
junction  of  Broadway  and  Pratt  streets,  the  latter 
being  the  street  on  which  the  Philadelphia  trains  run 
into  the  city — and  I  took  a  street-car  and  went  down. 

AY  hen  I  asked  the  man  for  the  boat,  he  looked  at 
my  crutch  and  said : 

"  Can  you  row  ?" 

I  told  him  that  reminded  me  of  a  lady  friend  of 
mine,  who  shortly  after  my  return  from  the  ''field  of 
glory,"  asked  me  if  I  didn't  find  my  corporeal  defect 
very  inconvenient  about  eating.  "  Why  shouldn't 
I  row  ?"  said  I.  "  A  man  don't  hold  the  oars 
with  his  toes,  any  more  than  he  holds  his  knife 
and  fork  in  them  when  eating  at  the  table — which 
would  look  rather  odd,  and  render  it  necessary  for 


86  JOHN   SMITH   ON   A   CRUTCH. 

him   instead  of  sitting  in  the  usual  manner  to  take  a 
somewhat  novel  position." 

No  further  doubts  were  expressed  as  to  my  ability 
to  row,  and  I  got  into  a  fifty-cents-an-hour  boat,  and 
rowed  out  into  the  harbor. 

"  Be  careful,"  was  the  owner's  admonition  as  I 
pulled  away,  "that  you  don't  get  caught  in  a  squall 
and  be  driven  away.  The  weather  is  uncertain  in 
March." 

"  No  danger,"  I  replied,  and  my  boat  glided  out  to 
where  there  was  a  stiff  breeze  blowing,  and  was  soon 
dancing  on  the  waves. 

I  moved  toward  the  southeast  a  mile  or  so,  rested 
awhile  near  a  ship  that  was  lying  at  anchor,  and  had 
a  chat  with  one  of  the  mates.  I  was  beginning  to 
pull  away  from  the  ship,  when  I  heard  an  excited 
voice  toward  my  right  sing  out: 

"Look  out  there!  Where  the  deuce  are  you 
going?" 

Immediately  followed  a  confusion  of  voices,  the 
ringing  of  bells,  and  the  shriek  of  a  steam  whistle.  I 
turned  in  the  direction,  and  was  somewhat  alarmed  to 
discover  that  I  was  about  to  cross  the  bow  of  a 
propeller,  that  came  dashing  along.  Had  I  pulled 
the  oars  but  once  more,  nothing  would  have  saved 
me  from  being  run  down.  My  boat  would  have 
been  shivered  to  pieces,  I  would  have  been  stunned 
and  my  chances  of  being  saved  from  a  watery  grave 
would  have  been  as  one  against  a  hundred.  "With 
all  the  presence  of  mind  I  could  command,  I  "  backed 
oars,"  and  checked  my  boat,  which  of  its  own  accord 
turned   side- wise;   and  the   propeller  rushed  by,  at 


NARROW  ESCAPE   IN  A   ROW  AT  BALTIMORE.     87 

such  a  trifling  distance  from  me  as  to  strike  the 
blade  of  my  right-hand  oar. 

"  Whew !  my  young  man,"  said  the  mate  with 
whom  I  had  been  talking — for  he  still  stood  by  the 
bulwark — "you  came  near  going  down." 

I  fully  realized  this,  and  quite  satisfied  with  my 
row,  put  back  for  shore.  The  wind  had  increased, 
and  I  now  noticed,  for  the  first  time,  that  some  dark 
clouds  were  coming  from  the  west.  I  had  a  good 
mile  to  row  against  the  wind,  which,  as  well  as  the 
waves,  was  every  moment  increasing  in  violence.  I 
was  yet  a  quarter  of  a  mile  from  the  dock  in  which 
the  boat  belonged,  when  a  regular  squall  came  on. 
Then  I  had  a  time  of  it.  Throwing  off  my  coat  and 
hat,  and  placing  them  in  the  bottom  of  the  boat,  I 
grasped  my  oars  and  pulled  away  with  all  the  strength 
and  energy  I  possessed.  I  made  rather  slow  time, 
and  when  within  one  hundred  yards  of  port,  perceived 
that  I  was  just  making  out  to  lie  still  against  the 
wind.  I  was  nearly  exhausted,  and  felt  like  throwing 
down  my  oars  in  despair ;  but  seeing  what  a  short 
distance  was  yet  to  be  accomplished,  I  nerved 
myself  for  a  final  effort ;  and  such  a  battle  as  I  had 
with  the  wind  and  waves  no  one  need  want  to  engage 
in.  After  ten  minutes  of  the  most  strenuous  exertion, 
I  arrived  in  the  dock,  trembling  from  exhaustion, 
perspiring  from  exercise,  and  wet  all  over  with  spray. 

I  concluded,  taking  my  narrow  escape  into  con- 
sideration, that  rowing  in  the  harbor  was  no  delight- 
ful recreation,  and  solemnly  vowed  never  again  to 
venture  out  there  in  a  row-boat.  I  kept  my  word 
faithfully   till    next   afternoon;    when   the   weather 


88  JOHN   SMITH    OX   A   CRUTCH. 

being  very  delightful,  I  broke  it,  went  out  again,  and 
had  a  very  pleasant  row  in  the  same  boat. 

At  four  o'clock  one  evening  I  left  Baltimore  for 
Harper's  Ferry,  via  the  Baltimore  and  Ohio  Kailroad, 
having  first  sent  my  trunk  back  to  Philadelphia  by 
express.  I  arrived  at  Harper's  Ferry  by  nine  o'clock. 
A  great  many  soldiers  were  there — for  it  will  be 
recollected  that  the  war  was  not  yet  ended — and  I 
found  it  difficult  to  secure  a  comfortable  lodging. 
Every  private  house  was  acting  the  part  of  an  hotel, 
furnishing  supper  to  many  soldiers  and  a  few  sorry- 
looking  travelers;  while  those  desiring  a  night's 
lodging  were  packed  into  rooms  at  the  rate  of  from 
seven  to  twenty-seven  in  each. 

By  paying  a  few  dollars  extra,  talking  politely,  and 
pretending  that  I  was  not  in  the  best  of  health — 
although  I  eat  an  astonishing  supper  for  an  invalid — I 
succeeded  in  securing  a  small  room  to  myself,  to 
which  I  retired  immediately  after  supper ;  and  having 
carefully  fastened  the  door,  I  lay  down  on  a  clean  bed 
and  slept  comfortably  till  the  morning. 


HOW   SMITH   TRAVELED   A-FOOT — AND   MORE.    89 


CHAPTER     XII. 

How  Smith  traveled    A-Foot — and  More, 

WHEN  morning  came,  I  tried  for  an  hour  to  get 
a  conveyance  to  Sharpsburg,  near  Antietam 
•  Creek,  twelve  miles  distant ;  but  in  vain.     Not 

a  horse  or  carriage  of  any  kind  was  to  be  had  for  love 
or  money;  and  I  made  up  my  mind  to  walk  it, 
although  I  had  never  yet  walked  any  such  distance 
on  one  leg.  "When  a  man  makes  up  his  mind  to  do  a 
thing,  however,  he  will  do  it,  if  he  has  firmness,  no 
matter  whether  he  has  any  limbs  or  not. 

At  eight  o'clock,  I  went  to  the  office  of  the  provost- 
marshal  to  get  a  pass  over  the  bridge — for  it  will  be 
recollected  that  the  village  of  Harper's  Ferry  is  on 
the  Virginia  side — but  he  had  not  come  in  yet. 
Wishing  to  start  as  soon  as  possible,  I  thought  I 
would  try  to  face  my  way  over.  So,  I  went  to  the 
bridge,  bade  the  sentinel  a  cheerful  good-morning, 
and  was  moving  on,  when  he  said : 

"  Have  you  a  pass  ?" 

"No,"  I  replied,  stopping.  "I  am  not  in  the  ser- 
vice.    Is  a  pass  necessary  ?" 

''  No,"  said  he,  after  a  slight  pause.  "  Your  crutch 
is  pass  enough.  I  suppose  you  got  that  in  the 
Army?" 


90  JOHN   SMITH   OX   A   CRUTCH. 

"Yes,"  I  replied,  "at  Antietam.  I  am  going  up 
there  to-aay  to  see  the  old  ground/' 

"  How  are  you  going?" 

"I'm  going  to  walk.'' 

"Walk!     Why,  can  you  do  it?" 

"I  think  I  can,  although  I  have  never  yet  walked 
so  far  on  a  crutch." 

"  You'll  have  a  good  walk  of  it.  It  is  fully  twelve 
miles." 

"  Yes,  so  I  have  been  told ;  but  I  could  get  no  con- 
veyance, and  must  try  it." 

"  I  hope  you'll  get  along  well." 

"Thank  you." 

I  passed  on.  When  I  reached  the  middle  of  the 
bridge,  I  could  not  refrain  from  stopping  to  admire 
the  scenery,  which  had  never  before  appeared  so 
grand  to  me.  Harper's  Ferry  presents  a  romantic 
picture  indeed.  All  around  are  tall  majestic  wood- 
covered  hills  that  gaze  down  upon  the  village  and 
bridge  with  quiet  and  awful  dignity  ;  and  the  beauti- 
ful river,  wandering  silently  about  among  them, 
looks  as  if  it  would  never  find  its  way  out.  It  was 
the  twenty-fifth  of  March,  the  morning  was  pleasant, 
the  sun  was  smiling  on  the  heights  and  glancing 
down  on  the  little  village  and  the  pure  river.  I 
thought  I  had  never  before  seen  such  a  beautiful 
sight. 

I  passed  over  the  bridge,  turned  to  my  left  and 
walked  up  the  tow-path  of  the  canal.  The  first  two 
or  three  miles  I  got  over  in  an  hour  or  so,  very 
smoothly;  but  after  that  I  felt  weary  at  times,  and 
found  it  an  advantage  to  rest  every  mile  or  two. 


HOW    SMITH   TRAVELED   A-FOOT — AND   MORE.     91 

By  a  quarter  to  twelve  o'clock  I  had  reached  the 
mouth  of  Antietam  Creek,  ten  miles  from  Harper's 
Ferry,  and  had  now  to  leave  the  river  and  strike  over 
the  hills  for  Sharpsburg,  two  miles  distant.  Nothing 
had  happened  to  me  during  my  walk,,  save  that  a 
stray  bullet  from  beyond  the  river  had  now  and  then 
whistled  about  my  ears.  They  were  no  doubt  fired 
at  random  by  some  of  our  pickets  there  who  did  not 
see  me. 

I  had  now  to  cross  the  canal,  in  order  to  direct  my 
course  toward  Sharpsburg.  This  was  no  easy  matter. 
There  was  no  bridge  or  lock  near,  and  no  ordinary 
jumper  could  clear  it  at  a  bound.  I  did  fancy  that 
I  might  make  it  in  two  jumps,  but  did  not  try.  It 
was  not  full  of  water,  and,  seeing  no  plan  but  to 
wade  through  it,  I  removed  my  shoe,  and  other 
apparel  liable  to  get  saturated  in  the  course  of  such 
an  enterprise,  and  stalked  in.  I  did  not  find  it 
deeper  tnan  twenty  inches,  but  its  temperature  felt 
very  little  above  thirty-two  degrees,  Fahrenheit,  and 
it  made  my  foot  and  the  calf  of  my  leg  ache  clear 
through  by  the  time  I  got  across. 

Having  passed  this  obstruction  and  replaced  my 
shoe,  etc.,  I  went  to  a  house  not  far  off,  where  I  in- 
quired the  way  to  Sharpsburg,  and  was  directed  to 
follow  a  country  road  that  took  its  way  over  the  hill; 
and  did  so.  I  reached  Sharpsburg  by  one  o'clock 
having  walked  a  little  more  than  twelve  miles  in  five 
hours.  There  was  an  hotel  there  and  having  taken 
dinner,  I  started  for  Srnoketown,  three  miles  distant, 
where  I  had  lain  in  the  hospital.  I  visited  the  vil- 
lage— a  village  consisting  of  two  dwelling-houses  and 


92  JOHN   SMITH   ON   A    CRUTCH. 

a  corn-crib — then  returned  to  the  battle-field  and 
spent  an  hour  or  two  traveling  about  in  search  of  the 
spot  on  which  I  had  received  my  wound. 

I  failed  to  find  the  interesting  place,  although  I 
had  felt  confident  of  being  able  to  walk  directly  to  it 
n  a  straight  line.  It  is  remarkable  what  a  change 
takes  place  in  a  year  or  two  in  the  appearance  of  the 
ground  on  which  a  battle  has  been  fought.  Thirty 
months  had  now  elapsed  since  the  battle  of  Antietam, 
and  a  casual  observer  would  not  have  noticed  any 
trace  of  the  conflict. 

I  saw  a  Mr.  Miller  plowing  in  a  field  opposite  the 
little  Tunker  Church  by  the  pike — a  building  that 
had  been  nearly  knocked  to  pieces  in  the  fight,  but 
had  since  been  repaired — and  he  showed  me  a  full 
set  of  "bones"  lying  in  a  fence-corner,  which  he  had 
just  "  plowed  up."  He  said  they  had  been  scarcely 
under  the  surface  of  the  earth ;  but  that  he  would 
bury  them  deeper.  This  was  the  famous  cornfield  in 
which  the  struggle  between  Hooker's  and  Longstreet's 
corps  was  so  terrible,  and  where  so  many  of  the 
Pennsylvania  Eeserves  were  killed.  I  found  in  this 
field  several  oullets,  a  fragment  of  shell,  and  a  few 
canteens,  straps,  etc.,  lying  about. 

As  evening  approached  and  I  had  walked  from 
eighteen  to  twenty  miles  since  morning,  I  started  for 
Keedysville,  several  miles  distant,  with  the  intention 
of  staying  there  all  night. 

After  the  amputation  of  my  leg  at  Antietam,  as 
mentioned  in  the  first  chapter,  I  had  lain  in  a  barn 
near  the  creek,  a  week  or  two ;  and  this  evening,  after 
crossing  the  creek  and  walking  a  little  way  toward 


HOW   SMITH   TRAVELED   A-FOOT — AND   MORE.     93 

Keedysville,  I  recognized  this  same  barn,  although 
I  had  never  known  its  precise  location :  and  0,  what 
recollections  of  misery  it  brought  back  to  me !  My 
sufferings  in  that  barn  were  so  terrible,  so  far  exceed- 
ing any  thing  that  might  merely  be  termed  pain,  that, 
as  I  look  back  now,  the  time  spent  there  seems  more 
like  a  horrible  dream  than  a  reality ! 

The  sun  was  sinking  as  I  stood  in  the  road  gazing 
thoughtfully  at  the  barn ;  and  I  thought  of  the  even- 
ings I  had  lain  within,  almost  dead,  and  seen  the 
sun's  last  red  rays  struggling  into  that  somber  apart- 
ment of  misery,  through  the  crevices.  While  I  thus 
stood,  a  lady,  who  had  come  out  of  an  adjacent  house, 
approached  me.  Her  footsteps  as  she  drew  near 
aroused  me  from  my  train  of  thought. 

"  Good  evening,  ma'am,"  said  I. 

"How  do  you  do?  Will  you  walk  into  the 
house  ?"  was  the  response. 

"  No,  I  thank  you,"  I  rejoined.  "  I  am  on  my  way 
to  Keedysville,  and  was  just  looking  at  this  barn, 
which  I  recognize  as  one  in  which  I  lay  for  some 
days  after  the  battle  here." 

"Ah,"  said  she;  "were  you  one  of  the  wounded 
ones  who  occupied  the  barn?" 

"Yes,  ma'am.     Who  is  the  owner?" 

"  Mr.  Pry — my  husband." 

"  I  have  been  on  the  battle-ground,"  I  observed, 
"trying  to  find  the  place  I  was  when  wounded." 

"And  did  you  find  it?" 

"  I  am  sorry  to  say  that  I  failed,"  said  I. 

"A  pity.     Where  did  you  come  from  to-day  ?" 

"  Harper's  Ferry." 


94  JOHN    SMITH    OS   A   CRUTCH. 

"  How  did  you  get  up  ?" 

"  Walked." 

'"Walked!  You  surely  did  not  walk  it  on  one 
leg?" 

11  Yes,  ma'am,  and  this  crutch  and  cane.  I  reached 
Sharpsburg  by  dinner-time,  and  have  spent  the  after- 
noon in  rambling  over  the  battle-field  and  visiting 
Smoketown." 

11  You  surprise  me.  I  did  not  suppose  a  person  on 
crutches  could  do  all  that." 

"  Nor  did  I  till  I  tried  it." 

11  Well,  you  must  go  no  further  to-night.  You 
were  our  guest  before,  and  must  be  again,  now  that 
we  are  better  prepared  to  accommodate  you." 

"  Why,  really,  I " 

"You  musn't  think  of  going  any  further.  Why, 
you've  walked  twenty  miles  to-day — and  on  a  crutch! 
No,  indeed,  you  must  not  pass  my  house.  Come  in. 
Mr.  Pry  is  just  coming  in  to  supper.  Come,  no 
excuses." 

I  did  not  further  decline  the  proffered  hospitality 
of  this  excellent  lady.  I  was  ushered  into  the  house, 
and  was  made  no  less  welcome  by  Mr.  Pry,  his  sons 
and  a  beautiful  and  amiable  daughter. 

An  excellent  supper,  a  pleasant  evening  chat,  a 
tidy  bed,  a  comfortable  chamber,  and,  O,  such  a 
delicious,  dreamless  slumber,  after  my  day's  exertion, 
made  me  forget  all  my  weariness ;  and  I  awoke  next 
morning — the  beautiful  Sunday  morning  of  March 
twenty-sixth — with  all  the  vigor  of  youth.  Never 
let  me  forget  the  Pry  family  for  their  cordial  wel- 
come and  hospitable  entertainment ! 


ROMANCE   IN   JOHN   SMITH'S   REAL   LIFE.  95 


CHAPTER     XIII. 
Romance    in    John    Smith's   mReal    Life.'1 

THAT  Sunday  morning  I  determined  to  visit  the 
battle-ground  again,  and  try  to  find  that  part  of 
the  field  on  which  I  had  had  the  honor  to  be 
shot ;  then  walk  to  Hagerstown,  a  distance  of  twelve 
miles.  Having  discovered,  the  previous  day,  that  I 
was  something  of  a  walker,  I  now  thought  nothing 
of  going  that  distance  on  foot.  My  excellent  friends 
urged  me  to  stay  till  Monday  morning,  but  I  declined. 
I  have  now  to  record  a  little  incident  such  as  we 
sometimes  read  of  but  seldom  gain  cognizance  of 
through  our  own  auricular  and  optic  organs.  It  may 
well  be  termed  a  "Eomance  in  real  life." 

Once,  while  in  the  army,  I  had  picked  up  a  small 
white  pebble  on  the  battle-ground  of  Bull  Eun,  in- 
tending to  keep  it  as  a  relic  of  that  famed  field.  I  had 
put  it  in  a  port-monnaie,  and  carried  it  with  me 
through  all  my  battles.  While  lying  in  the  barn 
alluded  to,  I  had  lost  my  port-monnaie,  which  only 
contained,  besides  the  pebble,  a  small  bit  of  white 
paper  on  which  I  had  made  some  notes  of  marches 
and  their  dates;  and  since  then  I  had  scarcely  given 
it  a  thought.  In  fact,  it  had  gone  quite  out  of  my 
mind. 


96  JOHN   SMITH    OS   A   CRUTCH. 

Well,  on  Sunday  morning,  March  twenty-sixth, 
1865,  before  I  left  Mr.  Pry's  house,  Mrs.  Pry  showed 
me  a  small  fancy  basket  of  curiosities,  such  as  little 
shells,  bullets,  and  the  like,  and  as  she  handed  it  to 
me  to  examine,  she  said : 

"  You  will  find,  among  those  shells  a  little  white 
pebble,  to  which  there  is  probably  some  story 
attached." 

"Ah?"  I  replied,  moving  the  shells  about.  "How 
so?" 

"  Why,  I  think,"  said  she,  "  that  it  must  have  been 
the  property  of  some  soldier  who,  no  doubt,  carried  it 
as  a  relic.  Our  boys  were  fishing  one  day,  not  long 
ago,  and  one  of  them  drew  up  on  his  hook  a  port- 
monnaie — and  what  a  fish  he  thought  he  had  ! — when 


"A  port-monnaie !"  I  exclaimed,  as  the  recollection 
of  my  pebble  suddenly  flashed  upon  my  mind  for  the 
first  time  since  my  leaving  the  army. 

"Yes,"  she  went  on;   "and  in  it  was  the  pebble 

11 

"And  this  is  it !"  I  interrupted,  as  I  found  it  at  that 
moment  among  the  shells  and  instantly  recognized  it 
by  its  peculiar  shape  and  a  little  dark  streak  running 
through  it. 

"  Yes,  that  is  it." 

"And  do  you  guess  whose  it  is  ?" 

"Is  it  yours?"' 

"Yes,  ma'am.  I  recollect  it  distinctly  now.  I 
picked  it  up  on  the  battle-field  of  Bull  Eun,  when 
visiting  the  ground  one  day,  before  I  had  ever  been 
in  a  fight,  and  carried  it  with  me  through  all  my 


ROMANCE  IN  JOHN   SMITH'S  REAL  LIFE.         97 

campaigns,  till  wounded  ;  and  I  lost  it  from  my  blouse 
pocket  while  lying  in  the  barn.  Was  there  not  a 
piece  of  paper  in  the  port-monnaie  ?" 

"  Yes,  so  the  boys  said." 

"  With  some  marches  and  their  dates  noted  down 
» 

"Exactly." 

"  Well,  is  it  not  rather  romantic !" 

"  It  is,  indeed.  The  pebble  is  yours  now.  Take 
it." 

"  Thank  you.  I  am  indeed  glad  to  see  it  again ; 
but  if  you  prefer  to  keep  it,  as  you  have  established 
an  undoubted  right  to  it  as  property,  by  rescuing  it 
from  the  depths  of  the  waters,  I  will  cheerfully  leave 
it  with  you." 

"No,  no,"  said  the  good  lady.  "It  is  a  pleasure  to 
me  to  be  able  to  restore  it  to  you,  after  the  lapse  of 
more  than  two  years.  I  am  so  glad  I  happened  to 
mention  it.  If  I  had  read  of  such  an  incident  I  could 
scarcely  have  believed  it." 

"Nor  any  one.  I  thank  you  a  thousand  times! 
To  think  that,  after  thirty  months,  I  should  recover  a 
little  thing  like  that !— and  that  after  it  had  been 
associating  with  the  fish  at  the  bottom  of  Antietam 
Creek!  To  think  that  it  should  so  happen  that  I 
should  stop  at  this  house  all  night  and  that  you 
should  happen  to  mention  it  to  me  just  before  depart- 
ing !     It  is  indeed  romantic  I" 

M  It  is,  truly.  Be  assured  that  I  am  as  happy  to 
restore  it  to  you  as  you  are  to  recover  it." 

I  took  the  pebble,  and  have  it  yet  in  my  possession. 
Any  one  calling  on  John  Smith  at  his  residence, 


98  JOHN   SMITH    ON   A   CRUTCH. 

(wherever  that  is,)  will  have  an  opportunity  of  seeing 
it,  and  of  thus  satisfying  himself  that  this  story  is 
true. 

Accompanied  by  Mr.  Pry's  two  sons,  I  departed  for 
the  battle-ground,  in  the  midst  of  the  most  earnest 
solicitations  to  remain  till  Monday  morning,  and 
made  another  tour  of  the  battle-field.  At  last,  we 
succeeded  in  finding  the  identical  spot  of  ground  on 
which  I  had  stood  when  shot,  which  I  recognized  by 
unmistakable  landmarks.  Especially  did  I  remember 
a  little  ledge  of  rocks  in  the  midst  of  a  small  grove 
of  trees,  over  which  we  had  climbed  in  advancing, 
and  where  two  men  had  fallen  back,  shot  dead — one 
at  my  right  hand  and  the  other  at  my  left.  I  also 
found  and  recognized  the  identical  tree  against  which 
I  had  leaned  my  rifle  on  finding  myself  to  be  too 
badly  wounded  to  continue  firing.  There  were  some 
graves  in  the  quiet  little  grove,  and  on  a  small  head- 
board I  found  the  name  of  one  of  my  old  regiment. 
Among  some  of  the  sunken  graves,  were  also  visible 
whitened  bones  that  had  barely  been  covered  with 
earth,  and  were  now,  after  the  rains  and  storms  of 
more  than  two  years,  entirely  unearthed  and  exposed 
to  view. 

Between  ten  and  eleven  o'clock,  I  started  for 
Hagerstown.  The  boys  wanted  me  either  to  go  back 
to  the  house  or  wait  there  till  they  should  get  a  team 
ready  to  convey  me  to  my  destination,  but  I  declined, 
assuring  them  that  I  could  walk  easily,  and  would 
really  prefer  to  do  so,  as  the  weather  was  fine. 

I  made  my  way  to  the  Hagerstown  pike,  and  had 
not  traveled  far,  when  I  fell  in  with  a  farmer  who 


ROMANCE   IN  JOHN   SMITH'S   REAL   LIFE.  99 

was  returning  from  a  Sunday-school  be  "had  been 
attending  at  the  little  church,  and  he  urged  me  to  go 
norae  with  him  and  take  dinner.  Not  wishing  to 
stop  so  soon,  I  declined,  with  thanks.  I  met  with 
several  similar  invitations  on  the  pike.  I  must  say, 
that  the  hospitality  and  kind-heartedness  of  the  people 
of  Maryland  cannot  be  too  highly  spoken  of.  They 
had  no  fair  opportunity  to  show  these  good  qualities 
while  whole  armies  were  passing  through  their  land, 
although  even  then  they  did  all  they  reasonably 
could  do  for  us  ;  but  let  a  person  travel  through  the 
country  districts,  especially  if  he  be  crippled  or  labor- 
ing under  any  physical  disadvantage,  and  he  will  meet 
with  kind  smiles  of  welcome  from  all,  regardless  of 
political  sentiments. 

Having  traveled  four  or  five  miles,  I  was  passing  a 
house  where  dinner  was  just  ready,  when  a  good- 
natured  old  gentleman  came  out  to  the  gate  and 
said: 

"How  do  you  do,  sir?  Stop  a  moment.  Which 
way  are  you  traveling?" 

"  I  am  going  to  Hagerstown,"  I  replied,  pausing. 

"  Well,  you  have  not  had  your  dinner  yet,"  he  said 
with  a  tone  and  manner  that  distinctly  added,  "  So,  of 
course,  you  simply  walk  in  at  this  gate  and  up  into 
the  house  and  get  your  dinner,  to  be  sure." 

"  No,"  I.  could  not  help  admitting  ;  "  but " 

"  But  What  ? in  the  name  of  sense." 

"I  am  not  decidedly  hungry,  and  would  like  to 
walk  a  mile  or  two  further  before  I  stop." 

11 0,  nonsemse !  Come  in !"  And  he  opened  the 
gate  with  such  an  air  that  I  could  not  have  remained 


100  JOHN   SMITH   ON  A   CRUTCH. 

in  the  road  without  insulting  him.  "Did  you  say 
you  intended  to  walk  to  Hagerstown  ?" 

"  Yes,  sir ;  such  is  my  intention." 

"  Well,  you  mustn't  think  of  it.  Come  in,  take 
dinner  and  rest  awhile,  and  I  will  hitch  up  to  my 
spring  wagon  and  take  you  to  Hagerstown  in  less 
time  than  it  would  take  you  to  walk  a  mile  I     Come." 

I  could  no  longer  resist,  and  allowed  myself  to  be 
smiled  and  welcomed  into  the  house.  The  good  peo- 
ple therein — an  elderly  lady  and  her  daughter — were 
somewhat  astonished  when  I  told  them  of  my  walk 
of  the  previous  day. 

II  Is  it  possible  you  couldn't  get  a  wagon  ?"  said  the 
old  gentleman. 

"  I  could  not." 

"If  I  had  known  it,"  said  he,  while  his  noble  heart 
shone  out  all  over  his  face,  "  I  would  have  hitched 
up  and  come  down  for  you  !  Surely,  there  ought  to 
have  been  some  one  there — However,  people  get 
pretty  hard-hearted  where  soldiers  are  quartered  so 
long." 

"  Very  natural,"  I  observed. 

After  a  good  dinner,  which  I  had  the  appetite  to 
enjoy,  this  hospitable  gentleman,  despite  my  protesta- 
tions, hitched  up  his  horse  and  wagon,  and  took  me 
to  Haoerstown.  I  offered  to  pay  him,  but  he  regarded 
that  idea  as  one  of  the  best  jokes  he  had  heard  lately. 
No,  indeed;  I  mustn't  give  a  thought  to  such  a 
thing  I 

"  The  idea  of  taking  pay  from  you  !"  he  said  ;  and 
laughed  till  we  both  forgot  about  it. 

I  sViyed  at  Hagerstown  that  night  and  next  morn- 


ROMANCE   IN  JOHN  SMITH'S   HEAL   LIFE.       101 

ing  took  an  early  train  for  Harrisburg,  arriving 
there  about  noon.  I  only  spent  a  couple  of  hours  in 
Harrisburg,  then  took  a  train  for  Philadelphia,  where 
I  arrived  that  evening,  and  found  rny  trunk  awaiting 
me. 


102  JOHN   SMITH    ON  A   CRUTCH. 


CHAPTER     XIV. 

The  Hudson. 

SPENT  the  remainder  of  the  spring  and  the  first 
two  months  of  the  summer  in  New  York,  but  as 
/  the  extreme  "  caloric  "  of  the  "  heated  term  "  began 
to  make  the  giant  walls  and  solid  streets  of  the  me- 
tropolis next  to  intolerable,  I  determined  to  take  a 
little  tour  up  the  Hudson,  and  out  by  the  lakes  into 
Ohio :  and  did. 

But  mj  grateful  heart  will  not  allow  me  to  pass 
quietly  by  New  York  again  without  briefly  ac 
knowledging  the  sincere  thanks  I  owe,  for  dis' 
tinguished  favors,  to  the  following  excellent  gentle 
men  :  Manton  Marble,  Editor  of  the  World  ;  Drexel 
Winthrop  &  Co.,  Bankers,  Wall  street ;  Willy  Wal 
lach,  Stationer,  John  street;  Paschal  S.  Hughes 
Merchant,  Broadway;  Henry  S.  Camblos,  Broker 
New  street ;  and  E.  S.  Jaffray,  Merchant,  Broadway 
I  can  say  no  more. 

Having  made  arrangements  to  correspond  with  a 
certain  well-known  journal,  I  started,  about  the  first 
of  August,  on  my  projected  tour,  taking  passage  on 
the  handsome  steamer  Daniel  Drew  for  Albany. 

They  have  on  the  Hudson  river  some  of  the  finest 
boats  in  the  world — low-pressure  boats  of  immense 


THE   HUDSON.  103 

size,  that  never  think  of  bragging  on  speed  that 
falls  below  twenty  miles  an  hour.  Some  of  them,  by 
straining  a  muscle  or  two,  have  made  twenty-five 
miles  an  hour,  and  felt  none  the  worse  for  it  next 
morning. 

We  started  at  eight  o'clock  one  August  morning; 
and  what  a  change  of  atmosphere  we  experienced  as 
we  left  the  hot  streets  of  the  city  far  behind  us,  and 
glided  up  the  Hudson — that  most  picturesque  and  ro- 
mantic of  rivers!  The  sky  was  bright  and  clear; 
and,  however  hot  and  close  may  have  been  the  narrow 
and  crowded  streets  of  New  York,  the  air  with  us 
was  charming. 

Most  of  the  passengers  sat  on  the  cabin  deck,  which 
was  protected  from  the  sun  by  an  awning,  that  hovered 
over  us  like  the  ghost  of  some  broad  sail  that  Old 
Ocean  might  have  swallowed.  We  had  not  gone  far, 
when  a  band  of  musicians  from  the  land  of  Horace, 
Virgil,  Cicero,  Titus,  Vespasian  and  the  Cesars,  treated 
us  with  some  melodious  strains  on  the  violin,  harp, 
and  some  other  instruments.  Although  we  would 
have  regarded  them  as  a  nuisance  in  front  of  our 
doors  in  the  city,  we  now  really  appreciated  their 
talent;  and  when  they  had  played  half-an-hour,  and 
one  of  them  came  round  with  an  empty  hat  in  his 
hand,  there  were  but  few,  if  any,  who  did  not  ac- 
knowledge their  approbation  by  contributions  of  ten 
cent  notes,  or  the  like. 

They  had  just  disappeared,  and  I  was  beginning  to 
regard  the  delightful  scenery  that  began  to  unfold  it- 
self to  us  along  the  shores,  when  a  very  black  African 
made  his  appearance  on  deck,  and  leaning  over  a  kind 


104  JOHN    SMITH   ON  A   CRUTCH. 

of  sky-light,  called  out  to  some  one  below  in  a  loud 
tone : 

"  Hillo,  Bill,  down  dah !" 

u  Well,  what  does  you  want  ?"  was  the  response 
from  below.  It  was  evident  that  William  was  also 
a  gentleman  from  the  land  where  snakes,  crocodiles, 
and  savage  beasts  grow  to  their  full  size. 

"Are  you  gwine  up  to  Albany?"  asked  the  darkey 
on  deck. 

"Yes,  reckon  I'se  gwine  up  dah,"  came  from 
below. 

"How'd  you  leabe  all  de  folks?" 

"  0,  well  enough — but  don't  ask  so  darned  many 
questions,"  said  Bill,  testily. 

"  Gettin'  rudder  techy,  ain't  you  ?" 

"  O,  don't  bodder  me !  I  didn't  git  no  sleep  last 
night— I  didn't." 

By  this  time  the  attention  of  the  passengers  in  the 
vicinity  was  attracted,  and  all  eyes  were  turned  upon 
the  darkey.  As  for  myself,  1  felt  somewhat  annoyed, 
and  wondered  why  the  black  cuss  didn't  go  below  and 
carry  on  his  animated  chat  with  his  friend,  instead  of 
standing  up  there,  yelling  down,  and  disturbing  the 
tranquillity  of  the  passengers. 

"  Well,  why  didn't  you  sleep  ?  It  was  your  own 
fault." 

"  O,  let  me  'lone,  Sam,"  came  from  below.  "  I  don't 
want  no  fool  in' !" 

"I  won't  let  you 'lone.  You  ain't  gwine  to  get  no 
sleep  dis  day,  you  isn't,"  said  Sam,  thrusting  a  cane 
he  had  in  his  hand  down  through  the  open  sky- 
light. 


THE   HUDSON.  105 

Some  one  appeared  to  seize  it  from  below,  and  at 
the  same  time  the  voice  of  Bill  said : 

"  Now,  look  yere,  1  say,  I'll  break  dis  'ole  cane  fur 
you,  if  you  don't  look  out!" 

"  Yes,  you  bettah  try  dat,"  said  Sam,  thrusting  the 
cane  down  several  times,  as  though  he  were  stirring  a 
'possum  out  of  a  hollow  log. 

"  Now  you  be  keerful  ["  vociferated  the  voice  below, 
angrily ;  and  the  stick  was  seized  again  and  an  effort 
made  to  wrench  it  from  Sam's  hand. 

"  Let  go  o'  dat  now,  I  say,"  said  Sam,  at  the  same 
time  freeing  it  with  a  savage  jerk. 

"Den  you  let  me  'lone,"  said  Bill,  in  a  kind  of 
compromising  tone. 

The  passengers  were  looking  on  in  astonishment. 
It  was  rather  singular  that  this  black  employe  of  the 
boat,  as  he  evidently  was,  was  allowed  to  come  up 
among  the  passengers,  and  go  to  raising  such  an  alter- 
cation through  the  sky-light  with  some  one  below. 
One  passenger,  who  had  been  reading,  seemed  Yery 
much  annoyed,  and  at  last  testily  said : 

"  O,  let  the  fellow  alone — whoever  he  is !" 

"  I'll  let  you  'lone  if  I  come  up  dar !"  retorted  the 
voice  below,  evidently  addressing  the  irritated  pas- 
senger. 

11  Look  out,  Bill,"  exclaimed  Sam  ;  "  dat's  a  white 
gemman  you's  talkin'  to!  d'ye  know  dat?" 

"Don't  car  for  dat.  He's  no  wuss  dan  a  black 
gemman,"  retorted  Bill.     "  De  white  cuss  !" 

"  Confound  him !"  exclaimed  the  angry  passenger, 
rising  and  going  to  the  sky-light.  "  Where  is  he  ? 
I'll  punch  his  head !" 


106  JOHN    SMITH   ON   A   CRUTCH. 

"  Don't  you  wish  you'd  ketch  me !  Ha,  ha,  ha,  ha, 
ha,  ha!"  laughed  the  voice,  in  taunting  exultation; 
and  now,  to  the  astonishment  of  all,  it  sounded  dis- 
tinctly as  though  it  were  on  the  awning  above  our 
heads. 

All  looked  up  as  though  expecting  to  see  the 
shadow  of  some  one  there,  but  only  the  broad  beams 
of  the  sun  covered  the  canvas  from  side  to  side. 

"Ha,  ha,  ha!  What's  de  mattah?"  yelled  the 
same  voice.     "  Ha,  ha,  ha !" 

First  it  appeared  on  the  canvas,  then  under  the 
deck,  next  toward  the  cabin-door,  next  toward  the 
bow  of  the  boat,  and,  after  apparently  making  a  rapid 
circle  around  us,  finally  subsided  in  our  midst — in 
fact,  in  the  very  mouth  of  the  darkey  who  stood  on 
deck.  He  was  a  ventriloquist — a  skillful  one,  too — 
and  had  been  thus  beautifully  "doing"  us  all  this 
time.  As  for  "  Bill,"  the  darkey  below,  he  was  of 
course  a  fictitious  personage.  A  loud  laugh  came 
from  the  passengers,  as  they  realized  this,  and  the 
irascible  man,  who  had  threatened  to  punch  Bill's 
head,  returned  to  his  seat,  trying  to  look  unconcerned. 
Sam  passed  around  his  cap  for  tokens  of  our  appreci- 
ation of  his  powers,  and  each  one — including  the 
irascible  passenger — contributed  from  five  to  twent}'-- 
flve  cents.  That  was  the  last  "tax"  we  paid  that 
day. 

I  might  give  a  long,  and  even  interesting,  account 
of  my  journey  up  the  Hudson ;  but  such  is  not  my 
intention.  There  are  already  numerous  books  of 
travel  extant,  which  describe  the  Hudson  as  well  as 
it  can  be  described  in  words.     My  object  is  to  amuse ; 


THE   HUDSON.  107 

and  if  I  relate  all  the  funny  things  that  happened  to 
me,  I  shall  succeed.  I  might  describe  the  view  of  the 
Catskill  Mountains,  the  towns  of  Hudson,  Peekskill, 
Newburg,  West  Point,  etc.,  but  will  leave  that  to 
tourists,  as  already  hinted. 

But  I  must  not  pass  by  without  mentioning  one  or 
two  points  on  the  Hudson.  The  Catskill  Mountains, 
viewed  from  the  river,  present  so  lovely  a  picture 
that  neither  pen  nor  brush  can  convey  any  adequate 
idea  of  them.  No  one  should  live  and  die  without 
viewing  such  scenery  as  this. 

A  few  miles  above  West  Point,  and  on  the  same 
shore  of  the  river — the  western — rises  a  mountain 
peak  called  the  Crow  Nest,  Joseph  Rodman  Drake, 
an  American  poet  who  died  in  1820,  at  the  age  of 
twenty-five,  thus  exquisitely  depicts  this  delightful 
region,  in  his  poem  entitled,  "  The  Culprit  Fay  :" 

"  Tis  the  middle  watch  of  a  summer's  night— 
The  earth  is  dark,  but  the  heavens  are  bright; 
bought  is  seen  in  the  vault  on  high, 
But  the  moon,  and  the  stars,  and  the  cloudless  sky, 
And  the  flood  which  rolls  its  milky  hue, 
A  river  of  light  on  the  welkin  blue. 
The  moon  looks  down  on  old  Crow  Nest, 
She  mellows  the  shades  on  his  shaggy  breast, 
And  seems  his  huge  gray  form  to  throw 
In  a  silver  cone  on  the  wave  below  ; 
His  sides  are  broken  by  spots  of  shade, 
By  the  walnut  bough  and  the  cedar  made, 
And  through  their  clustering  branches  dark, 
Glimmers  and  dies  the  fire-fly's  spark — 
Like  starry  twinkles  that  momently  break 
Through  the  rifts  of  the  gathering  tempest's  rack. 


108  JOHN   SMITH   ON   A   CRUTCH. 

"The  stars  are  on  the  moving  stream, 

And  fling,  as  its  ripples  gently  flow, 
A  burnished  length  of  wavy  beam 

In  an  eel-like  spiral  line  below : 
The  winds  are  whist,  and  the  owl  is  still, 

The  bat  in  the  shelvy  rock  is  hid, 
And  nought  is  heard  on  the  lonely  hill 
But  the  cricket's  chirp,  and  the  answer  shrill 

Of  the  gauze-winged  katy-did  ; 
And  the  plaint  of  the  wailing  whip-poor-will, 

Who  moans  unseen  and  ceaseless  sings, 
Ever  a  note  of  wail  and  woe, 

Till  morning  spreads  her  rosy  wings, 
And  earth  and  sky  in  her  glances  glow. 

"  'Tis  the  hour  of  fairy  ban  and  spell ; 
The  wood-tick  has  kept  the  minutes  well ; 
He  has  counted  them  all  with  click  and  stroke, 
Deep  in  the  heart  of  the  mountain  oak, 
And  he  has  awakened  the  sentry  elve, 

Who  sleeps  with  him  in  the  haunted  tree, 
To  bid  him  to  ring  the  hour  of  twelve, 
And  call  the  fays  to  their  revelry.  '* 


JOHN  AT  SARATOGA.  109 


CHAPTER     XV. 

John    at    Saratoga 

TV  7"E  reached  Albany  at  five  o'clock,  and  I  stepped 
VV  ashore  and  walked  carelessly  up  the  street, 
J  trying  to  look  as  though  I  had  been  there  be- 
fore. I  don't  think  I  succeeded.  It  is  the  most  dim- 
cult  thing  in  the  world  to  step  off  a  boat  or  train  in 
a  strange  city,  and  not  fancy  that  at  least  half  the 
assembled  spectators  are  looking  at  you  and  saying : 

"There's  a  fellow  who  never  was  here  before: 
that's  clear." 

I  went  up  to  an  hotel,  gave  my  check  to  the  porter 
and  told  him  to  bring  my  baggage  from  the  boat.  I 
have  hitherto  forborne  to  give  the  names  of  hotels, 
because  it  might  look  like  surreptitious  advertising; 
and  John  Smith  is  above  that  sort  of  thing.  But,  it 
might  be  urged,  why  not  mention  the  names  of  the 
good  hotels,  that  travelers  who  read  this  work  may 
know  where  to  stay  when  they  visit  such  cities  as  I 
mention  ?  One  reason  is,  this  is  no  traveler's  guide  ; 
and  another  is,  that  an  hotel  that  was  comfortable  and 
well-conducted  two  or  three  years  ago,  may  have 
changed  proprietors,  and  become  quite  the  reverse 
by  this  time.  I  have  seen  this  demonstrated  myself, 
as  I  may  have  occasion  to  mention  in  the  course  of 
this  work. 


110  JOHN   SMITH    ON   A    CRUTCH. 

I  remained  at  Albany  a  week,  during  which  time 
I  visited  the  penitentiary — onhj  as  a  visitor,  remem- 
ber— and  other  places  of  interest.  I  also  visited 
Troy,  six  miles  above,  on  the  east  side  of  the  river, 
and  some  of  its  manufactories.  At  a  nail  and  horse- 
shoe factory  there  I  .aw  the  largest  wheel  in  this 
country.  It  is  a  monstrous  water-wheel,  which  runs 
the  machinery  of  the  whole  establishment.  I  was 
told  that  its  diameter  was  seventy-four  feet.  It  was 
in  operation  while  I  was  there;  it  revolved  rather 
slowly,  and  looked  like  the  world  turning  around  on 
a  cloudy  day.  At  Troy  I  also  saw  a  Trojan  horse; 
though  not  the  one  Homer  tells  about. 

Before  going  westward,  I  paid  a  visit  to  Saratoga 
Springs,  the  great  fashionable  summer  resort,  which 
is  about  thirty  miles  from  Albany.  Do  not  infer  that 
I  went  there  to  spend  the  fashionable  "  season."  I 
am  above  such  a  place  as  that.  So  is  any  one  that 
hasn't  too  much  money.  It  is  there  that  glittering 
wealth  and  giddy  fashion  congregate  during  the  hot 
weather,  and  that  merchants  from  New  York  and 
other  cities  go  to  gamble  away  in  a  week — sometimes 
in  a  single  night — all  they  have  made  in  a  year. 

"Faro"  prevails  there  to  an  alarming  extent.  So 
do  poker,  roulette,  billiards,  nine-pins  and  horse- 
racing.  I  stood  by  a  faro-table  for  an  hour,  and  the 
amount  of  cash  I  saw  change  hands  in  that  time  was 
something  frightful.  Thousands  seemed  but  a  trifle 
at  that  board.  I  saw  one  gentleman  looking  on  with 
idle  interest,  while  others  were  betting,  losing  and 
winning,  and  I  said  to  myself,  "That  fellow  is  going 
to  try  his  luck  :  I  can  tell  by  the  way  he  looks." 


JOHN  AT   SARATOGA.  Ill 

And  he  did  try  it. 

"  I'll  put  that  V  on  the  ace,"  said  he,  laying  down 
a  five-dollar  greenback. 

It  lost. 

"Pshaw!"  said  he;  to  which  nobody  paid  any 
attention. 

The  betting  went  on.  Presently  my  man  tried  it 
again. 

"  Here's  an  X  on  the  ace." 

And  he  put  an  X  on  the  ace. 

It  lost. 

"Confound  it!"  he  exclaimed,  vexatiously.  "Here's 
twenty-five  for  the  deuce." 

He  put  two  Xs  and  a  Y  on  the  deuce. 

The  ace  won  this  time,  and  the  deuce  lost.  And  he 
lost.     He  was  now  forty  dollars  "  out." 

"Give  me  some  checks,"  he  said,  handing  a  hundred- 
dollar  bill  to  the  banker.  He  was  evidently  going 
into  it  more  extensively. 

The  banker  quietly  took  his  hundred  dollars,  and 
counted  him  out  some  ivory  checks  used  to  represent 
cash  in  the  game. 

The  betting  went  on.  He  laid  down  five  dollars' 
worth  of  checks  on  the  ace  and  wron.  He  laid  down 
another  five  and  lost.  He  laid  twenty  on  and  lost. 
He  laid  twenty  more  on  and  lost. 

"  Confound  that  unlucky  ace  !"  said  he,  "  I  will  not 
ry  it  again." 

So,  he  tried  betting  on  two  others  at  once.  He  laid 
five  on  the  seven,  and  thirty  on  the  eight.  The  seven 
won  and  the  eight  lost.  He  won  five  dollars  and  lost 
thirty. 


112  JOHN    SMITH   ON  A   CRUTCH. 

"Blast  the  luck  !"  said  he.  "Here  are  the  rest  of 
the  checks  on  the  ace.  I'll  try  my  luck  on  it  again." 
And  he  placed  the  remainder  of  his  hundred  dollars' 
worth  of  checks  on  the  ace. 

And  lost. 

He  then  abruptly  mentioned  the  vulgar  name  of  a 
place  that  is  also  called  Hades  and  Erebus,  and  wished 
ugly  wishes  on  himself  if  he'd  bet  any  more.  But  he 
soon  thought  he  would  like  to  try  it  again — just  once. 
He  resolved  to  risk  one  bet  of  a  hundred  dollars,  and 
if  that  should  lose,  he  wouldn't  try  it  again. 

"Let  me  see,"  said  he,  "  I'll  put  it  on  the  ace.  No, 
I  won't.  The  ace  is  unlucky  for  me.  I'll  put  it  on 
the  vseven ;  that  won  for  me  once." 

He  put  it  on  the  seven  and  lost.  If  he  had  put  it 
on  the  ace  that  time  be  would  have  won. 

He  then  used  profane  language,  and  spoke  very 
disrespectfully  of  the  cards  in  general,  and  of  the 
seven-spot  in  particular.     Then  he  left  the  room. 

Presently  he  returned  with  a  roll  of  bills  in  his 
hand — a  thousand-dollar  one  being  placed  conspicuous- 
ly on  the  outside,  as  a  kind  of  index,  to  show  what 
was  within.  He  handed  a  thousand-dollar  bill  to  the 
banker,  and  said : 

"  Change  that." 

The  banker  changed  it. 

He  then  laid  down  five  hundred  dollars  on  the  ace, 
and  lost.  He  laid  five  hundred  more  on  it  and  lost. 
He  took  another  thousand-dollar  bill  from  the  roll, 
laid  it  down,  and  lost.  He  laid  down  another,  and 
won 

"  Good  luck,  at  last,"  said  he.     "  I  believe  that  ace 


JOHN    AT    SARATOGA.  113 

will  win  again.  It  will  be  sure  to :  it  has  won  so 
little  of  late."  So  he  put  three  thousand  dollars  on 
it.  Others  followed  his  example,  and  two  thousand 
dollars  more  were  laid  on  the  ace.  All  who  sat  at  the 
table  now,  or  stood  by,  looked  for  the  issue  with 
much  interest. 
It  lost. 

This  most  unfortunate  of  the  gamblers  made  a 
slight  movement  of  the  hand,  as  though  to  place  his 
remaining  cash  in  his  pocket  and  quit ;  but  he  hesi- 
tated a  moment,  then  placed  the  whole  "  pile  "  on  the 
ace. 

"  There,"  said  he,  "  are  seven  thousand  dollars." 
Yes,  seven  thousand. 
The  ace  lost  that  time. 

The  unfortunate  man,  who  had  now  lost  about  ten 
thousand  dollars,  articulated  a  number  of  bad  words, 
and,  turning  away,  left  the  room  with  as  sad-looking 
a  face  as  I  ever  saw  under  a  hat.  No  one  paid  any 
attention  to  him.  The  game  went  on,  and  he  was  soon 
forgotten. 

Of  course,  others  were  betting,  winning  and  losing 
all  this  time,  for  there  were  a  score  around  the  table, 
and  it  would  be  no  exaggeration  to  say  that  at  least 
a  hundred  thousand  dollars  changed  hands  while  I 
was  standing  there.  I  have  merely  mentioned  this 
one  gentleman  in  particular,  because  his  case  was, 
perhaps,  the  saddest  of  any  that  came  under  my  no- 
tice, and  made  the  greatest  impression  on  my  mind. 
Whether  he  returned  with  any  more  cash,  or  whether 
he  could  raise  any  more,  I  do  not  know,  as  I  soon 
after  left  the  room  and  returned  to  Albany ;  but,  if 
8 


114  JOHX    SMITH    ON    A    CRUTCH. 

he  was  able  to  raise  any  more  " spondo  >lix,"  there  is 
little  doubt  that  he  tried  it  again  that  evening,  for  the 
more  bitter  lessons  of  this  kind  a  man  learns,  the 
more  they  don't  do  him  any  good.  "I  will  try  it 
again  till  I  at  least  win  back  what  I  have  lost,"  is  his 
plea.  If  he  has  been  fortunate,  and  won,  he  will  say: 
"I  seem  to  be  pretty  lucky;  it's  worth  trying  again." 
He  does  and  often  finds  it  is  worth  trying  again — 
to  the  banker.  Win  or  lose,  a  gambler  will  be  a 
gambler. 


THE   SAIL    BOAT.  115 


CHAPTER    XVI. 
The    Sail   Boat. 

TVTEXT  day  I  left  Albany  for  Rochester,  via  the 
N  New  York  Central  Railroad.  Those  who  have 
/  done  much  traveling  by  railroad  must  have  been 
annoyed  and  tormented  from  time  to  time  by  the 
flying  dust,  and  the  smoke  and  cinders  from  the  loco- 
motive. Every  dying  spark  that  flies  from  the  chim- 
ney seems  to  go  right  for  the  eyes  of  any  unhappy 
visage  that  dares  to  thrust  itself  from  a  car  window 
for  a  breath  of  fresh  air  or  a  glance  at  the  scenery 
ahead.  And  0,  how  it  does  hurt!  The  sting  of  a 
bumblebee  is  joy  compared  with  it. 

On  this  occasion  I  determined  to  adopt  a  plan  that 
would  enable  me  to  thrust  my  head  out  all  the  time 
if  I  chose,  and  stare  at  the  locomotive  with  impunity. 
Before  leaving  Albany,  I  purchased  a  pair  of  fifty- 
cent  goggles — window-glass  focus — which  I  wore 
during  my  journey  from  Albany  to  Rochester  (a 
distance  of  over  two  hundred  miles).  Hence,  my 
eyes  being  secure,  I  paid  no  attention  to  the  smoke  and 
dust  I  was  continually  breathing ;  and  the  result  was, 
that  next  morning  my  throat  and  lungs  were  so  sore 
as  to  interfere  materially  with  my  articulation,  and 
for  some  weeks  I  was  afflicted  with  a  regular  "  grave- 


116  JOHN   SMITH   ON   A   CRUTCH. 

yard  cough,"  that  I  had  reason  to  fear  would  merge 
into  some  permanent  pulmonary  afYection.  I  got 
over  it,  though,  and  I  also  got  over  wearing  goggles 
on  an  express  train. 

To  this  day,  I  can  not  help  shuddering  as  I  contem 
plate  what  a  frightful  appearance  I  must  have  pre 
sented  with  those  goggles  on.  A  good-looking  young 
man  like  myself,  on  a  crutch,  with  such  an  immense 
round  patch  on  either  side  of  his  nose,  must  have 
been  a  marvel  to  look  at.  I  regret  that  I  did  not  pro- 
cure a  mirror,  and  take  a  look  at  myself  while  wear- 
ing them,  for  I  have  never  had  the  courage  to  put 
them  on  since. 

Mv  memory  records  that  several  passengers,  with 
subdued  smiles  on  their  countenances,  manifested  the 
most  intense  interest  in  my  welfare,  and  asked  me 
what  was  the  matter  with  my  eyes?  In  reply  to  this 
impertinent  question,  I  gave  them  to  understand  that 
it  was  an  hereditary  weakness  of  the  "  windows  of 
the  soul;"  and  intimated  that  the  Smith  family  had, 
from  time  immemorial,  been  amateur  astronomers, 
and  had  done  a  good  deal  of  gazing  at  the  moon  and 
stars. 

The  New  York  Central  Eailroad  takes  its  way 
through  the  beautiful  Mohawk  valley.  That  valley 
is  famed  in  history,  and  we  read  of  a  great  many 
bloody  scenes  enacted  there  by  the  savage  Mohawk 
tribe;  but  I  think  that  now,  with  its  green  meadows, 
its  fields  of  grain,  its  grazing  sheep  and  cattle,  its  farm- 
houses and  dairies,  with  peace  smiling  over  all,  it  is 
far  more  beautiful  and  interesting  than  it  was  in  its 
wildness,  when  the  red-skinned  son  of  nature  made  it 


THE  SAIL   BOAT.  117 

his  Lome,  and  followed  killing  bears,  deer,  and  the 
pale-faces  for  a  living. 

There  is  one  grand  picture  in  the  Mohawk  valley 
which  I  can  not  forbear  to  mention.  It  is  an  enchant- 
ing cascade.  The  amount  of  water  is  not  great,  but  it 
comes  streaming  down  from  a  height  of  two  hundred 
feet,  sparkling  in  the  sunbeams,  and  bounding  from 
rock  to  rock  like  a  thing  of  life.  For  calm,  quiet 
enjoyment,  I  would  rather  sit  among  the  trees  that 
hover  about  this  romantic  cascade  and  listen  to  its 
murmurs,  than  on  the  banks  of  the  Niagara,  and  hear 
the  roars  of  that  grand  old  cataract. 

It  was  after  night-fall  when  we  reached  Rochester, 
and  as  I  wanted  to  stay  there  a  few  days,  I  went  into 
an  hotel  that  was  in  the  same  building  with  the 
depot  itself,  and  registered  my  name.  Next  morning 
I  walked  out  and  looked  about  me.  Rochester  is  a 
very  pleasant  city  of  about  sixty  thousand  inhabitants, 
and  is  situated  at  the  Falls  of  the  Genesee  river,  seven 
miles  from  Lake  Ontario.  I  say  at  the  Falls,  for  the 
city  is  built  on  all  sides  of  the  cataract,  except  one. 
It  occupies  either  shore,  and  one  of  its  principal 
streets,  with  its  solid  rows  of  buildings,  actually 
crosses  the  river  on  an  arched  bridge  or  viaduct  about 
two  hundred  yards  above  the  Falls. 

It  will  be  remembered  that  it  was  at  these  Falls 
that  Samuel  Patch,  Esquire,  made  his  last  leap:  and 
here  I  am  compelled  to  dispel  a  very  popular  delusion 
that  prevails  in  regard  to  the  matter.  I  do  not  wish 
to  detach  a  particle  from  the  glory  and  honor  of  Mr. 
Patch,  for  he  was  an  American,  like  myself — not  ex- 
actly like  myself,  either,  for  he  is  said  to  have  had 


118        JOHN  SMITH  ON  A  CRUTCH. 

two  legs — and  I  feel  a  kind  of  national  pride  in 
holding  him   up  before  the  world  as  the  paragon  of 

i  upers.  But  what  I  wish  to  say,  is  this  :  Patch  did 
stand  in  the  water  below,  as  is  generally  supposed, 
and  jump  up  over  the  falls.  On  the  contrary,  he 
stood  above  on  a  platform  erected  at  the  brink  of  the 
precipice,  where  there  was  not  much  water  pouring 
over  at  the  time,  and  jumped  churn ;  and  who  couldn't 
do  that?  I  saw  persons  in  Rochester  who  saw  him 
make  his  last  leap,  and  they  told  me  all  about  it,  con- 
fi  Initially. 

Auother  thing:  It  is  generally  known  that  Patch 
leaped  over  the  Falls  of  Genesee  twice,  but  it  is  not 
generally  known  on  which  of  these  occasions  lie 
killed  himself;  some  suppose  it  was  the  first:  but  I 
can  assure  them,  on  the  best  authority,  that  it  was  his 
second  leap  at  Rochester,  and  not  his  first,  that  proved 
fatal. 

On  one  occasion  Daniel  Webster  was  called  upon 
to  speak  at  a  public  dinner  given  at  Rochester. 
"Gentlemen,"  said  he,  "  Athens  had  her  Acropolis, 
and  Rome  her  Coliseum,  but,  gentlemen,  they  could 
boast  of  no  such  falls  as  those  of  Rochester !"  Her<j, 
being  slightly  under  the  influence  of  the  wine  which 
he  had  been  drinking,  he  paused,  and  hesitating,  was 
about  to  sit  down,  when  some  one  whispered  to  him 
"The  national  debt!''  Rising  to  his  full  height  the 
great  orator  exclaimed  :  "  And  then,  gentlemen,  there 
is  the  National  Debt!  It  should  be  paid,  gentlemen. 
Tt  must  be  paid,  gentlemen."  And  then,  in  louder 
tones,  "  I'll  be  d d  if  it  sharit  be  paid.     Til  pay  it 


THE   SAIL   BOAT.  119 

myself 7"  pulling  out  his  pocket-book.  u  How  much 
is  IT?" 

Two  miles  below  Rochester  there  is  a  wharf  where 
steamboats  and  other  lake  craft  land,  and  where  a 
man  keeps  boats  to  let.  The  street-cars  rnn  to 
within  three  quarters  of  a  mile  of  the  place,  and  I 
got  on  one  and  rode  down.  On  leaving  the  car 
at  the  terminus  of  the  city  railway,  I  walked  to  the 
river  bank,  and  found  a  graded  wagon- road  leading 
down  to  the  landing,  the  bank  being  about  two  hun- 
dred feet  high  ;  and  very  steep. 

When  I  reached  the  landing  I  concluded  to  hire  a 
sail  boat  and  have  a  little  ride  on  the  river. 

"  Can  you  manage  one?"  asked  the  owner. 

"0,  yes,"  I  replied.  "That  is,  pretty  well."  The 
truth  was,  I  had  never  tried  it,  and  therefore  didn't 
know  whether  I  could  manage  one  or  not. 

11  Well,  take  that  one,"  said  he,  pointing  to  a  smaP 
sail  boat  of  about  three  quarters  of  a  ton  burthen. 
"  There  are  oars  in  it,  and  if  you  can  not  manage  it 
you  can  row  it  back." 

It  was  well  enough,  for  without  those  oars  I  could 
never  have  brought  it  back.  I  got  in,  the  sail  being 
set,  and  he  pushed  me  from  shore.  A  stiff  breeze 
was  sweeping  down  the  river,  and  I  did  not  like  to 
run  before  it,  lest  it  should  blow  me  out  upon  the  lake 
and  clear  over  to  Canada.  So,  I  thought  I  would  try 
tacking,  and  run  up  the  river  a  little  way,  in  order  to 
have  easy  sailing  back.  With  the  helm  in  one  hand 
and  a  line  attached  to  the  boom  in  the  other,  I  went 
flying  across  the  river,  which  was  only  about  four 
hundred  feet  wide,  and  presently  brought  up  against 


120  JOHN    SMITH    ON    A    CRUTCH. 

the  other  shore.  I  looked  quickly  around  to  see  if 
the  owner  was  observing  me,  found  he  wasn't,  pushed 
my  boat  oft'  with  an  oar,  got  the  sail  set  right  for  the 
other  tack,  and  went  sailing  for  the  western  shore 
again.  This  time,  I  "tacked"  in  time,  turned  the  boat 
pretty  skillfully,  and  the  boom  sweeping  around  be- 
fore the  wind  hit  me  a  deuce  of  a  "  belt"  on  the  head 
and  knocked  my  hat  off  into  the  water.  I  then 
lowered  the  sail  and  shipped  the  oars.  Eecovering 
my  hat,  I  then  unshipped  the  oars,  and  hoisted  my 
sail  again. 

I  had  seen  persons  "  tack  "  before,  and  make  pretty 
good  time  against  a  head-wind.  It  looked  simple 
and  easy ;  but  with  me  it  went  rather  awkwardly. 
I  couldn't  make  any  "time"  up  stream  at  all,  but 
found  after  each  "tack"  that  I  had  drifted  further 
and  further  down.  I  had  better  have  cast  anchor 
and  waited  for  a  port  or  starboard  wind,  so  far  as 
making  "  time  "  was  concerned. 

At  last,  much  disgusted  with  a  sail  boat,  I  lowered 
my  sail  and  took  her  in  with  the  oars,  vowing  never 
to  try  a  sail  boat  again:  another  vow  I  kept  for 
nearly  a  year. 

I  then  hired  a  light  row  boat  and  went  up  to  the 
"  Lower  Falls  "—that  is,  a  cataract  of  some  seventy 
or  eighty  feet,  about  a  mile  and  a  half  below  the 
principal  Falls  of  Genesee.  I  had  some  stiff  rowing 
to  get  up,  too,  for  the  current  was  very  swift  near  the 
Falls.  But  didn't  I  come  back,  though,  when  I  started 
to  return !  I  only  used  my  oars  to  keep  the  boat 
straight,  and  the  current  carried  me  down  as  the  wind 
bears  a  feather  before  it. 


J9  -v,i,:p 

'4  \  .  ■  k 


3      o 


i  e 

|   3 


NMi;.l::.:  i,::1,:^ 


THE    SAIL    BOAT.  121 

The  next  day  was  Sunday,  and  learning  that  a 
small  steam  pleasure  boat  was  to  make  a  trip  that 
afternoon  from  the  landing,  to  a  little  harbor  on  the 
lake  shore,  some  eight  or  ten  miles  from  the  mouth 
of  the  river,  I  went  down  and  embarked  for  the 
voyage. 

The  boat  started  early  in  the  afternoon,  crowded 
with  pleasure-seekers.  It  was  the  slowest  boat  and 
about  the  lightest  draft  steamboat  I  ever  had  the 
honor  to  travel  on.  We  were  three  or  four  hours 
reaching  our  destination  :  and  on  entering  the  harbor, 
she  plowed  through  the  shallowest  water  I  ever  saw 
navigated.  The  water  in  the  lake  was  low  at  that 
time,  and  we  passed  over  some  places  where  the 
rushes  grew  up  so  thick  that  at  a  little  distance  the 
water  could  not  be  seen  at  all.  It  looked  a  little  more 
like  navigating  a  meadow  than  any  thing  I  ever  saw. 
At  intervals,  when  we  could  see  the  water  ahead  of 
us,  it  did  not  appear  to  be  a  foot  deep.  And,  0,  the 
way  our  boat  stirred  the  mud  up !  I  pity  the  fish  that 
lost  their  way  in  our  wake :  they  must  have  been  a 
loner  time  finding  it  a^ain. 

The  voyage  was  a  little  tedious,  in  consequence 
of  the  slow  "  time "  we  made,  but  not  unpleasant. 
It  was  nine  o'clock  that  evening  when  we  returned 
to  the  landing  in  the  Genesee  river,  and  a  two-horse 
spring  wagon  waited  there  for  all  who  preferred  a 
ten-cent  ride  up  the  long  hill  to  a  free  walk.  I  pre- 
ferred the  ride  and  got  in.  But  I  wished  myself  out 
again  before  we  reached  the  upper  end  of  the  perilous 
road,  for  I  never  enjoyed  the  luxury  of  a  more 
dangerous  ride.     It   was  extremely  dark — so  dark 


122  JOHN    SMITH   ON   A   CRUTCH. 

that  you  couldn't  have  seen  a  candle,  if  it  had  not 
been  lighted  —and  the  wagon  was  crowded.  As  we 
moved  up  the  road  there  was  a  high  perpendicular 
bank  on  our  right  hand,  and  on  our  left  was  the  brink 
of  a  steep  precipice,  whose  height  became  greater 
and  greater  as  we  advanced;  and  I  could  not  help 
contemplating  the  fearful  consequences  of  a  possible 
accident,  such  as  the  balking  of  the  horses,  the  break- 
ing of  the  traces,  or  the  giving  way  of  the  earth  at 
the  brink  of  the  declivity  beneath  the  weight  of  the 
wheels.  It  was,  in  truth,  a  perilous  ride,  and  before 
we  reached  the  top  of  the  tall  shore  half  the  passen- 
gers had  got  scared  and  jumped  off:  but  I  had  paid 
for  my  ride,  and  was  determined  to  have  it  at  the  risk 
of  my  neck.     So  I  stayed  in. 

We  reached  the  head  of  the  narrow  road  without 
accident,  and  half-an-hour  later  I  was  in  my  bed,  re- 
posing after  the  pleasures  and  perils  of  the  day. 


NIAGARA    FALLS.  123 


CHAPTER     XVII. 
Niagara    Falls. 

PN  the  following  Wednesday  morning  I  took  the 
accommodation  train  for  Niagara  Falls.  When 
I  say  "accommodation  train,"  do  not  fancy  that 
we  went  jogging  along  at  the  rate  of  s'x  or  eight 
miles  an  hour.  That  is  not  the  style  of  the  New 
York  Central.  The  accommodation  trains  make 
twenty  miles  an  hour,  including  numerous  stoppages, 
which  is  better  time  than  is  made  by  the  express 
trains  of  some  roads  I  have  traveled  on. 

So,  I  arrived  at  Niagara,  eighty  miles  from  Roches- 
ter, by  nine  o'clock;  where  I  left  my  trunk  at  an 
hotel  and  walked  out  to  see  the  sights. 

It  would  be  presumptuous  in  any  man  to  attempt  a 
regular  description  of  Niagara  Falls,  with  the  ex- 
pectation of  doing  the  subject  justice — much  more  so 
in  the  unpretending  John  Smith.  No  one  can  form 
a  fair  idea  of  the  mighty  cataract  without  having 
seen  it.  Nor  will  one  mere  glance  be  sufficient. 
You  may  spend  whole  days  there  before  you  arrive 
at  a  just  appreciation  of  it.  The  mind  cannot  grasp 
it  at  once. 

A  friend  had  told  me  that  I  should,  on  first  visiting 
Niagara,  experience  a  sense  of  disappointment— that 


124  JOHN    SMITH    OS   A   CRUTCH. 

the  Falls  would  not  appear  quite  equal  to  their  repu- 
tation and  my  consequent  anticipations ;  but  that,  by 
and  by,  as  I  should  come  to  contemplate  them  more 
maturely,  I  should  be  led  to  regard  them  as  infinitely 
grander  and  more  majestic,  than  my  loftiest  anticipa- 
tions had  painted  them.  I  found  it  true.  As  the 
train  approached,  I  heard  the  roar  of  the  cataract, 
and  saw  the  green  waters  tumbling  down  with  their 
white  robes  of  spray;  but  I  somehow  thought  they 
did  not  come  up  to  my  expectations,  or  rather  ex- 
perienced a  vague,  indescribable  impression  that  I  had 
seen  the  like  before.  But  when  I  walked  down  to 
the  bank,  stood  in  the  midst  of  the  mighty  thunder, 
felt  the  earth  tremble  beneath  the  giant  leap  of  the 
great  river,  saw  the  dashing  spray,  arising  like  clouds 
of  smoke  and  dust  from  the  sudden  ruin  of  some  great 
city ;  when  I  remembered  that  for  ages  and  ages,  from 
time  lost  in  dim  obscurity,  day  and  night,  winter  and 
summer,  never  ceasing,  never  tiring,  the  mighty  waters 
had  been  tumbling  and  plunging  down  from  the  dizzy 
height,  as  now ;  and  when  I  thought  of  the  future, 
when  I  mused  of  the  unknown  ages  to  come,  fancied 
generation  after  generation  to  have  passed  away ;  when 
I  imagined  this  great  round  sphere  to  have  made 
thousands  of  annual  revolutions  around  the  sun,  and 
pictured  the  grand  old  cataract,  with  none  of  its 
vigor  lost  in  the  maze  of  centuries,  still  thundering 
away,  with  the  same  old  strength,  young,  mighty, 
glorious,  majestic  as  ever  :  then  did  I  begin  to  realize 
the  magnitude  of  the  lofty  cataract,  the  work  of  the 
Almighty  Maker  of  heaven  and  earth,  and  feel  the 
littleness,  the  nothingness,  of  man! 


NIAGARA   FALLS.  125 

The  following  lines  written  in  the  immediate  pres- 
ence of  the  great  cataract,  by  David  Paul  Brown,  Jr., 
Esquire,  of  the  Philadelphia  Bar,  are  highly  worthy 
of  perusal : 

"  Niagara  !  0,  Niagara  !  long  thy  memory  will  remain 

A  source  of  mingled  wonder,  of  happiness  and  pain. 

When  burst  thine  awful  grandeur  on  my  raptured,  ravished 

sight, 
My  senses  broke  from  Reason's  chain,  in  frenzied,  wild  delight ; 
But  as  the  God-like  attribute  resumed  its  sovereign  sway, 
A  calmer  feeling  soothed  my  breast — its  tumult  passed  away, 
The  spirit  bowed,  and  then  a  tear — my  Nature  was  subdued, 
A  thrill  of  awe  swept  through  my  frame,  I  worshiped  as  I  viewed ; 
A  moment  more  I  silent  gazed,  then  humbly  bent  the  knee, 
As,  in  Niagara's  mightiness,  I  felt  God's  majesty  ! 
I  saw  His  glory  shining  round  where  tremblingly  I  stood, 
I  cast  a  glance  to  His  bright  realm  then  on  the  foaming  flood: 
And  is  there  strength,  I  humbly  asked,  in  the  Almighty  will 
To  calm  this  boisterous  element,  and  bid  its  rage  be  still  ? — 
To  sweep  it  e'en  from  Nature's  face,  with  but  a  single  breath, 
Eesistlessly  as  human  life  is  swept  away  by  death  ? 
And  can  Niagara  not  rebel,  with  all  its  force  and  power, 
When  crumbling  Nature  shall  give  way  at  the  appointed  hour? 
Must  its  fierce  torrent  tamely  hush — its  giant  rocks  then  fall  ? 
The  still  voice  of  my  soul  replied,  'Yes,  yes,  frail  mortal,  all!' 
Then  let  me  meekly  bow  the  head  before  such  Power  Divine — 
The  only  Power  that  never  ends — Niagara's  God  and  mine  !" 

I  am  sure  you  will  not  quarrel  with  me,  reader, 
for  introducing  these  graphic  and  eloquent  lines,  and 
for  growing  sentimental  over  my  remembrance  of 
Niagara  Falls.  They  are  too  grand  to  be  passed  over 
lightly.  Thus  far,  since  my  arrival  at  Niagara,  you 
have  not  found  much  of  the  John  Smithian  tone  ill 
my  narrative. 


126  JOHH    SMITH    ON   A   CRUTCH. 

I  had  heard  a  good  deal  about  the  "  Cave  of  the 
Winds,"  and  thought  I  would  like  to  visit  it.  So, 
after  s;anding  for  a  full  hour,  wrapped  up  in  the 
glories  of  the  thundering  cataract,  I  inquired  of  a 
respectable-looking  gentleman  where  the  "  Cave  of 
the  Winds"  was? 

"You  must  go  over  on  Goat  Island  to  see  that,"  he 
said ;  "but  I  hope  you  don't  think  of  going  down  ?" 

"O,  yes,"  I  replied. 

"What on  one  leg  ?M 

"  Yes,  I  shall  certainly  take  it  with  me." 

"But  it  is  dangerous.  You  will  have  to  go  down 
a  steep  flight  of  wooden  steps,  and  pass  behind  the 
sheet  of  water  where  you  cannot  stand  up.  The 
spray  will  blind  you,  and  the  wind  will  take  your 
breath  and  lift  you  off  your  feet " 

"  Foot,"  I  interrupted. 

"Yes,  will  lift  you  off  your  foot ;  and  one  mis-step 
is  certain  death.  Many  strong  men  with  two  legs  are 
afraid  to  try  it." 

"They  have  twro  feet,  and  are  therefore  just  twice 
as  apt  to  slip  or  make  a  mis-step." 

"  Well,"  said  he,  "  go  and  see  it,  and  I  don't  believe 
you  will  venture  down.  A  look  down  into  it  will 
satisfy  you.  It  will  remind  you  of  all  the  accounts 
you  have  heard  of  Hades " 

"  Where  I  thought  water  was  not  so  plenty,"  I  in- 
terrupted. 

"You  are  ahead  of  me  again,"  said  he,  laughing. 
"  Well,  follow  the  bank  of  the  river  till  you  reach  a 
bridge :  that  will  take  you  over  to  Goat  Island." 

"Thank  you." 


NIAGARA   FALLS.  127 

I  walked  up  the  shore  of  the  river  a  little  way  and 
came  to  the  bridge — a  suspension  bridge  of  four  or 
five  spans — and  went  over  to  Goat  Island.  This  is- 
land divides  the  turbulent  river,  just  before  it  takes 
its  fearful  plunge,  into  two  cataracts.  That  on  this 
side  is  termed  the  "American  Fall;"  that  between 
Goat  Island  and  Canada  being  termed  the  "  Horse- 
shoe Fall,"  because  of  its  shape.  The  American  Fall 
is  nine  hundred  feet  wide  and  one  hundred  and  sixty- 
four  feet  high;  while  the  Horse-shoe  Fall  is  two 
thousand  feet  wide  and  one  hundred  and  fifty -eight 
feet  high.  By  far  the  larger  portion  of  the  water 
tumbles  over  on  the  Canada  side  of  the  island,  no 
doubt  because  the  rocky  bed  of  the  river  is  six  feet 
lower  on  that  side ;  the  cataract  on  either  side,  how- 
ever, is  stupendous  enough  for  all  practical  purposes. 

In  this  connection  I  am  reminded  of  an  anecdote, 
with  which  I  will  conclude  this  chapter.  Two 
Yankees,  one  of  a  sentimental  and  the  other  of  a 
practical  turn  of  mind,  were  standing  side  by  side, 
gazing  on  this  prodigy  of  Nature. 

II  How  sublime !"  exclaimed  the  former.  "  To  think 
that  it  falls  one  hundred  and  sixty-four  feet  at  a  sin- 
gle leap !" 

11  What's  to  hinder  it?"  responded  the  other. 


128  JOHN   SMITH    ON    A   CRUTCH. 


J 


CHAPTER     XVIII. 

Cave    of    the    Winds* 

N  order  to  reach  the  "  Cave  of  the  Winds  " — I  don't 
see  why  it  should  be  so  styled,  for  the  winds 
never  caved  there  yet — I  had  to  descend  a  winding 
stairway  within  a  wooden  tower  at  the  north-western 
margin  of  the  island.  On  arriving  at  the  base  of  the 
tower,  I  found  myself  on  a  shelf  about  forty  feet 
above  the  water-line  below  the  Falls,  with  the  Ameri- 
can Fall  on  my  right  hand  and  the  Horse-shoe  Fall 
on  my  left.  The  "  Cave  of  the  Winds  "  is  simply  a 
vacant  space  between  the  great  perpendicular  wall  of 
rock  over  which  the  torrent  leaps,  on  the  American 
side,  and  the  broad  sheet  of  descending  water  itself. 
A  flight  of  wooden  steps  takes  the  visitor  down  nearly 
to  the  water  level,  behind  the  foaming,  dashing  folds 
of  this  fearful  curtain ;  and  from  the  foot  of  the  stairs 
a  narrow  plank  walk  extends  some  distance,  to  a  point 
where  the  sheet  of  water  is  again  parted  by  a  project- 
ing rock  at  the  brink  far  above.  The  visitor,  after 
reaching  this  welcome  recess  in  the  furious  torrent, 
can  pass  out  and  take  a  seat  on  a  great  heap  of  rocks 
at  the  foot  of  the  mighty  cataract,  where  he  hears 
nothing  but  the  eternal  thunder  of  waters  and  a  cloud 
of  mist  hides  the  whole  world  from  his  view ! 


CAVE   OF   THE   WINDS.  129 

Pardon  me  for  coming  down  from  the  sublime  to 
the  common-place,  and  for  stating  that  a  suit  of  water- 
proof clothes  is  provided  for  the  visitor. 

At  a  little  house  near  the  entrance  to  the  "  Cave  of 
the  Winds  "  I  met  a  man  whom  I  asked  where  the 
guide  was. 

"  I  am  one  of  the  guides,"  said  he :  "  but  you  don't 
want  to  go  down  into  the  Cave  of  the  Winds  ?" 

"  Yes,  I  had  rather  thought  of  going  down,"  I  re- 
plied. 

11 0,  dear  me  !"  he  said,  decidedly.  "  You  can't  go 
down !" 

"  Why?"  I  asked. 

"  I  wouldn't  let  you  go  down  for  a  thousand  dol- 
lars !  you  would  be  drowned,  certain.  Just  step  this 
way  and  take  a  look  down. — Did  you  lose  your  leg 
in  the  army  ?" 

11  Yes,"  I  replied,  as  we  walked  to  the  head  of  the 
wooden  stairway,  "at  the  battle  of  Antietam,  in 
Meade's  Division,  Hooker's  Corps — got  struck  with  a 
rifle- ball,  and  the  leg  was  amputated  the  same  day 
about  six  hours  after ;  I  draw  a  pension  of  eight  dol- 
lars a  month,  but  can't  wear  an  artificial  leg  on  ac- 
count of  the  shortness  of  the  stump;  I  am  never 
troubled  by  change  of  weather — am  twenty-two  years 
old  and  my  name  is  John  Smith. — That  place  down 
there  is  the  Cave  of  the  Winds,  is  it? — Well,  it's  a 
much  milder  looking  place  than  I  had  expected  to 
find  it." 

It  will  be  perceived  that  I  gave  all  this  voluntary 

information  to  save  time,  by  sparing  the  guide  the 

trouble  of  asking  the  usual  questions ;  for  every  hour 
9 


130  JOHN   SMITH   OS   A    CBUTCH. 

a  man  stays  at  Niagara  costs  him  from  two  to  five 
dollars,  if  be  is  economical. 

"What  do  you  think  of  it?"  be  asked,  in  a  loud 
voice,  so  as  to  be  beard  above  the  roar  of  the  cataract. 

"  A  fine  place,"  I  coolly  shouted. 

"  Wouldn't  think  of  going  down,  now,  I  hope  ?" 

"I'll  go  down  now,  by  all  means,"  I  calmly  yelled. 

"0,  no;  it  would  be  recklessness,"  he  shouted. 
"  We've  never  lost  any  one  bere  yet,  and  we  don't 
want  to." 

He  didn't  want  me  "  lost." 

"No  danger,"  I  shrieked. 

11 1  can't  give  my  consent,"  he  yelled,  decidedly. 

"If  you  don't,"  I  screamed,  "I'll  jump  down 
without  it.  I've  traveled  eighteen  bundred  miles  for 
the  sole  purpose  of  going  down  in  tbe  Cave  of  the 
Winds,  and  I'll  not  return  to  my  free  home  in  tbe 
Rocky  Mountains  witbout  it !  Give  me  a  water- 
proof suit  !" 

That  began  to  tell  on  bim.  A  man  wbo  lived  in 
a  free  home  among  the  Rocky  Mountains  migbt  be 
dangerous.     So  he  yelled,  in  a  softer  tone  : 

"  Well,  if  you  will  only  go  to  the  foot  of  tbe  stairs, 
and  will  not  try  to  follow  tbe  walk  to  that  heap  of 
stones  out  there,  I'll  give  you  the  water-proof  clothes, 
and  you  may  go  down." 

"  John  Smitb  never  rejected  any  thing  like  a  rea- 
sonable compromise,"  I  replied ;  "  so  I  will  promise 
to  go  no  further  than  tbe  foot  of  tbe  steps.  Get  me 
tbe  water-proofs." 

He  gave  me  tbe  oil-cloths,  and  I  donned  tbem  and 
carefully  descended  into  the  famous  Cave  of  the 


CAVE   OF  THE   WINDS.  131 

"Winds,  and  stood  on  the  frail  plank  walk,  between 
the  thundering  torrent  and  the  black,  rocky  wall  over 
which  it  tumbled.  As  I  began  to  descend,  I  felt  as 
though  I  was  leaving  the  face  of  the  earth  for  ever  ; 
but  who  can  describe  my  emotions  as  I  stood  at  the 
very  heels  of  the  raving  and  raging  cataract?  Who 
shall  describe  that  awful  place?  It  exceeded  all  the 
wild  storms  I  had  ever  dreamed  of.  The  spray  dashed 
into  my  face,  and  fairly  blinded  me ;  while  the  fierce, 
unceasing  wind  rushed  violently  upon  me  from  all 
sides,  took  the  very  breath  from  me,  and  seemed 
about  to  snatch  me  up  from  the  frail  plank  on  which 
I  stood,  and  hurl  me  under  the  mighty  torrent !  It 
was  wildly,  fearfully  bewildering.  The  wind  and 
spray  and  the  roar  of  the  cataract  fairly  took  away 
from  me  the  senses  of  sight  and  hearing ;  I  was  con- 
scious that  the  water  had  thrust  its  way  beneath  my 
water-proof  clothes,  and  that  I  was  wet  all  over, 
but  could  not  feel  the  dampness ;  I  coul  1  scarcely  com- 
mand my  mind  so  as  to  think  or  reason.  I  scarcely 
knew  whether  I  felt,  thought,  or  was  conscious  at  all, 
so  absorbed  were  all  my  faculties  in  that  eternal 
storm.  I  fancy  that,  if  one  were  to  remain  there 
long,  he  would  lose  all  consciousness,  sink  prostrate, 
tumble  from  the  walk,  plunge  under  the  wild  torrent, 
and  be  no  more. 

On  returning  to  the  face  of  the  earth  again,  and  re- 
moving my  water-proof  clothes,  I  realized  how  wet  I 
was.  I  fancied  it  would  not  help  my  cough  very 
much,  but  although  I  got  wringing  wet  four  different 
times  during  the  few  days  of  my  sojourn  at  Niagara, 
it  never  injured  me:  which  is  a  strong  point  in  favor 


132  JOHN   SMITH   ON   A   CRUTCH. 

of  the  water-cure  system ;  i.  e.,  if  it  don't  cure,  it,  at 
least,  is  not  quite  certain  to  kill. 

"  What  is  your  charge  ?"  I  asked  of  the  proprietor. 

"  Nothing  at  all,"  was  the  reply.  "  We  charge 
visitors  two  dollars  each  when  we  attend  them  through 
the  whole  walk;  but,  under  the  circumstances,  we 
won't  charge  you  any  thing." 

"I  am  willing  to  pay,  if -" 

"  No,  no  ;  not  a  cent.  Tf  any  one  ought  to  pay,  I 
ought  to  pay  you  ten  dollars  for  the  privilege  of 
seeing  you  go  down  there.  You  are  the  first  and  only 
one-legged  man  that  ever  ventured  into  the  Cave  of 
the  Winds." 

I  returned  to  my  hotel,  took  a  lemonade,  changed 
my  clothes,  imbibed  another  lemonade,  took  dinner, 
then  another  lemonade,  and  was  about  to  start  for  the 
river  again,  when  the  host  said  : 

"  Are  you  going  to  see  Leslie  walk  the  rope?" 

II  Walk  the  rope  ?     Where  ?"  I  queried. 

"Just  below  the  railroad  bridge — the  large  sus- 
pension bridge,  two  miles  below." 

"At  what  time?" 

11  Four  o'clock.  You  will  have  an  hour  or  two  yet 
to  get  there." 

"  I  will  go,  by  all  means,"  I  said,  much  delighted 
at  this  opportunity.  "I  thank  you  for  mentioning 
it." 

I  went  out,  and  walked  leisurely  down  to  the  Sus- 
pension Bridge.  I  found  a  great  many  people  col- 
lected on  the  bridge,  and  on  either  shore,  and  ob- 
served that  there  was  a  rope  stretched  across  from 
bank  to  bank,  not  far  from  the  bridge. 


CAVE   OF    THE   WINDS.  133 

This  bridge  is  one  of  the  grandest  of  structures.  It 
is  an  iron  bridge  with  a  single  span  of  eight  hundred 
feet,  and  is  suspended  two  hundred  and  fifty  feet  above 
the  water.  The  trains  run  over  on  top  of  it,  while 
on  a  level  with  the  bank  are  a  carriage-way  and  a 
walk  for  pedestrians. 

I  paid  twenty-five  cents  to  be  admitted  upon  the 
bridge,  in  order  to  view  the  feats  of  Mr.  Leslie.  It 
was  crowded  with  spectators,  but  I  succeeded  in  get- 
ting a  good  position,  from  which  I  could  see  the  rope. 

.Not  long  after,  Mr.  Leslie,  arrayed  in  the  garb  of  a 
circus  actor,  and  carrying  a  long  pole  in  his  hands,  as 
a  man  is  apt  to  carry  a  fence-rail  when  constructing  a 
worm  fence,  made  his  appearance  on  the  American 
shore,  stepped  boldly  out  upon  the  rope,  over  the 
fearful  abyss,  and  walked  leisurely  toward  Canada. 
He  moved  nimbly  till  he  had  traveled  more  than  half 
the  length  of  the  rope,  when  he  seemed  to  lose  his 
confidence  for  awhile,  stopped,  and  tottered  from  side 
to  side.  At  this  point,  the  ladies  all  became  pale,  a 
great  many  of  them  said,  "  0,  Lord  ["  fervently,  and 
turned  away ;  while  we  stronger-hearted  men  gazed  on 
with  the  most  absorbing  interest  and  anxiety.  Leslie 
soon  regained  his  composure  and  equilibrium,  and 
resumed  his  perilous  walk. 

On  reaching  the  Canada  side,  he  was  saluted  with 
thunders  of  applause  from  both  shores  and  the  bridge ; 
and,  after  resting  awhile,  and  taking  a  glass  of  lemon- 
ade (probably),  he  again  stepped  upon  the  rope, 
balancing-pole  in  hand,  and  a  coffee-sack  over  his 
head.  He  thus  again  accomplished  the  fearful  walk, 
and  was  again  greeted  with  cheers.     Then  he  went 


134  JOHN    SMITH    ON   A   CRUTCH. 

out  upon  the  rope,  with  only  the  balancing- pole, 
stopped  about  the  middle,  and  performed  some  gym- 
nastic feats.  He  laid  his  pole  carefully  down — one 
end  resting  on  the  main  rope,  and  the  other  on  one  of 
the  guys — hung  there  by  his  hands  a  moment,  two 
hundred  and  fifty  feet  above  the  foaming  waters,  that 
were  still  angry  from  their  recent  leap,  then  hung 
suspended  by  one  hand,  then  by  his  chin,  then  by  hip 
feer,  and  finally  by  one  foot.  To  use  the  very  mildest 
expression,  it  looked  dangerous. 

His  hanging  suspended  by  one  foot  was  his  last 
feat  for  that  day ;  the  crowd  soon  after  dispersed,  and 
I  got  into  an  omnibus  and  returned  to  Niagara. 


CANADA.  135 


CHAPTER    XIX. 
Canada. 

T?  ARLY  next  morning  I  started  for  Canada.  Just 
L/  below  the  Falls  a  flight  of  three  hundred  steps, 
/  protected  by  a  weather-boarded  frame-work  and 
roof,  descends  the  steep  bank  to  the  water's  edge,  and 
beside  the  flight  of  steps  is  a  track  for  small  cars,  that 
are  drawn  up  and  let  down  by  means  of  a  windlass 
run  by  water-power.  I  got  on  one  of  the  cars  and 
rode  down  to  the  water;  but  before  taking  the  boat 
for  Canada,  visited  the  foot  of  the  Falls  near  by,  and 
got  completely  wet  with  spray  again.  Here  the  wind 
created  by  the  vast  masses  of  water  continually  tum- 
bling down  is  very  strong,  and  the  flying  spray  is 
equal  to  a  violent  rain ;  so  that  this  place  reminded 
me  of  the  "  Cave  of  the  Winds."  I  had  to  climb 
over  a  huge  heap  of  slippery  rocks  that  had  at  one 
time  fallen  from  above,  and  I  got  my  shin  scraped 
and  bruised,  and  my  knee  cut  in  the  operation.  O, 
what  difficulties  a  mortal  will  overcome  for  the  sake 
of  novelty.  Charles  Dickens  thus  speaks  of  this 
place  in  his  "American  Notes:" 

11  Climbing  over  some  broken  rocks,  deafened   by 
the  noise,  half-blinded  by  the  spray,  and  wet  to  the* 
skin,  we  were  at  the  foot  of  the  American  Fall.     I 


136        JOHN  SMITH  ON  A  CRUTCH. 

could  see  an  immense  torrent  of  water  tearing  head- 
long down  from  some  great  height,  but  had  no  idea 
of  shape  or  situation,  or  any  thing  but  vague  im- 
mensity." 

After  getting  as  wet  as  I  wanted,  I  (John  Smith,) 
returned  to  the  foot  of  the  stairway  and  got  aboard 
the  ferry-boat.  This  is  only  a  kind  of  yawl  that  will 
accommodate  twenty  or  twenty-five  passengers,  and 
is  rowed  across  the  turbulent  stream  by  one  strong 
man.  It  was  crowded  with  visitors,  of  both  sexes 
and  all  ages;  and  when  we  reached  the  middle  of  the 
stream,  where  the  waves  were  rolling,  and  the  boat 
rocked  handsomely,  a  lady  grew  dizzy  and  pale, 
dropped  her  parasol  in  the  water,  fainted,  and  fell, 
back  in  the  boat,  into  the  arms  of  a  friend.  I  seized 
the  parasol  before  it  could  float  away,  sprinkled  a 
little  of  the  sparkling  water  upon  her  face,  and  she 
revived.  We  soon  after  reached  the  Canada  shore 
and  she  was  all  right  again. 

When  we  landed,  the  passengers  all  arose  from 
their  seats  in  the  crowded  boat,  and  made  a  rush  to 
see  who  should  be  first  ashore,  just  as  though  the 
first  would  see  the  most.  The  result  was  that  one 
fell  overboard,  and  another,  in  making  a  leap  from 
the  gunwale  of  the  boat,  miscalculated  the  distance, 
and  alighted  in  water  of  such  a  depth  that  it  just  ran 
into  his  watch-pocket  to  see  what  time  it  was.  Both 
were  rescued,  completely  saturated,  and  terribly 
scared.  I  quietly  retained  my  seat  in  the  boat  till  the 
rush  was  over.  As  I  stepped  ashore,  last  of  all,  the 
^boatman,  whom  I  shall  always  remember  gratefully 
for  his  kindness,  slyly  said  to  me : 


CANADA.  137 

"You  are  going  over  here  for  the  first  time,  I 
suppose ;  be  careful  that  you  don't  get  beat.  Do  not 
buy  any  thing  or  hire  a  carriage  without  first  making 
your  bargain,  or  you  will  be  charged  six  prices." 
I  thanked  him,  and  treasured  up  his  advice. 
On  the  Canada  side,  a  carriage-road  winds  its  way 
in  a  serpentine  course  up  the  steep,  high  shore ;  and, 
on  stepping  from  the  boat  I  was  immediately  assailed 
by  half-a-dozen  drivers  of  carriages,  who  expressed  a 
curiosity  to  know  whether  I  desired  to  ride  up  or 
not.  But  I  replied  that  I  lived  "just  over  the  hill," 
and  would  walk  up.  One  of  them  winked  at  the 
other,  and  I  passed  on. 

On  gaining  the  top  of  the  high  shore,  I  visited 
Table  Rock,  from  which  prominent  point  I  had  an 
excellent  view  of  the  whole  cataract.  I  was  again 
assailed  by  cabmen. 

"Do  you  want  to  go  to  Lundy's  Lane?"  "Do 
you  want  to  go  to  the  Burning  Springs?"  "Do  you 
want  to  go  to  the  Suspension  Bridge  ?"  "  Do  you  want 
to  go  to  Brock's  Monument  ?"  I  was  asked  in  a  second. 
"Yes,  but  I'm  going  to  walk,"  I  replied. 
"  Walk !  You  can't !  It's  four  miles  to  Lundy's 
Lane."  [It's  only  a  little  over  a  mile,  reader.  J. 
Smith.]  "It's  five  miles  to  the  Burning  Springs." 
[It's  only  one  and  a  half.  J.  Smith.]  "It's  ten 
miles  to  Brock's  Monument."  [It's  only  five  or  six. 
J.  Smith.]  "It's  three  and  a  half  to  the  Bridge." 
[It's  only  two.     J.  Smith.] 

"  Is  that  all  ?     Then  I'll  walk,  certainly." 
They  left  me — having  probably  come  to  the  con- 
clusion that  I  was  a  heathen. 


138  JOHN   SMITH    ON    A    CRUTCH. 

I  was  told  that  there  was  a  place  on  the  Canada 
side  similar  to  the  "  Cave  of  the  Winds/'  where  one 
could  go  behind  the  sheet  of  water.  Desiring  to  see 
all  that  was  to  be  seen,  I  went  into  an  adjacent  build- 
ing, in  which  was  a  museum,  got  a  water-proof  suit, 
and,  with  others,  explored  this  dangerous  place. 

It  is  a  fact  worthy  of  remark,  that  the  Canadian 
in  charge  of  the  place,  did  not  offer  a  single  ob- 
jection to  my  venturing  upon  the  perilous  walk ;  nor 
did  he  offer  a  single  objection  to  accepting  the  fee  of 
two  dollars.     Why  ?     'Cause  I  was  a  "  Yankee." 

We  walked  fifty  feet  behind  the  sheet  of  water,  on 
a  narrow  and  slippery  path.  The  wind  and  spray 
here,  as  in  the  "  Cave  of  the  Winds,"  formed  a  perfect 
tempest.  It  is  really  surprising  that  so  few  accidents 
happen  at  this  place.  Many  ladies  visit  it.  1  believe 
only  one  person  ever  fell  from  the  path,  and  that 
was  a  gentleman.  He  lost  his  footing,  rolled  down  a 
steep  and  slippery  declivity,  fell  under  the  resistless 
torrent,  and,  of  course,  never  breathed  again. 

Having  returned  to  the  building  and  removed  my 
water-proof  clothes,  I  went  into  the  museum  awhile, 
where  I  saw  a  mummy,  a  native  of  Egypt,  that  had 
reached  the  remarkable  age  of  three  thousand  years, 
and  there  wasn't  a  gray  hair  in  his  head.  He  had  a 
healthy  and  vigorous  appearance,  and  looked  as 
though  by  being  careful  about  his  diet,  and  avoiding 
damp  weather,  he  might  live  a  thousand  years  yet. 
I  also  saw  the  skeleton  of  a  mammoth  that  had  been 
discovered  at  the  bottom  of  an  oil-well.  It  was 
chiefly  made  of  the  best  seasoned  oak  timber,  and 


CANADA.  139 

constructed  with  an  eye  to  strength  and  beauty  com- 
bined. 

On  leaving  the  building,  I  saw  a  very  black  seven- 
teen-year old  negro  sitting  lazily  in  a  buggy,  and  I 
approached  him  and  asked: 

u  What  will  you  charge  to  drive  to  Lundy's  Lane?' 

"Why,"  he  replied  after  regarding  me  attentively 
for  a  moment,  "dey  charges  six  dol " 

;  0,  never  mind,"  I  interrupted.  "I'll  walk  it  I" 
And  I  turned  away. 

"No,  no ;  wait  a  minute,"  he  said,  quickly;  and  I 
stopped  to  learn  what  he  might  have  the  honor  to 
represent. 

"  Dey  charges  six  dollahs,"  said  he,  "  but  you  git 
in  an'  I'll  take  you  dar  an'  to  de  Burnin'  Springs 
bofe,  fur  dat.     Did  you  want  to  go  any  oder  whar?" 

"Don't  know,"  said  I.  "But  come,  I'll  tell  you 
what  I'll  do.  I  may  want  to  visit  several  places,  or 
may  only  go  to  Lundy's  Lane.  Now,  I'll  give  you  a 
dollar  an  hour  for  the  time  we're  gone." 

"  0,  dat's  too " 

"Very  well,"  I  interrupted,  walking  away. 

"Hold  on!  Wait!"  he  called,  excitedly.  "Let's 
see.  Well,  don'  car.  May  be  I  kin  afford  it.  Git 
in.— Or,  I'll  help  you." 

He  was  going  to  get  out  to  help  me  in,  but  I  placed 
one  hand  on  the  buggy  and  the  other  on  the  top  of 
my  crutch,  and  sprung  up  upon  the  seat  with  ease. 

"Golly!"  he  exclaimed.  "You  kin  git  up  better'n 
anoder  man !" 

"Certainly,  old  coon,"  I  replied.  "You  awkward 
two-legged  fellows  can't  get  about  in  the   world. — 


140        JOHN  SMITH  OX  A  CRUTCH. 

Drive  on :  don't  waste  my  time.     Let  me  see "  I 

looked  at  my  watch — "  it  is  just  ten  o'clock." 

"  Whar'll  I  go  de  fustest  ?" 

"To  Lundy's  Lane.     Move  it,  now." 

My  ebony  companion  touched  up  his  horse,  and  we 
got  over  the  ground  pretty  fast.  He  might  have 
jogged  along  slowly,  to  extend  the  time,  as  he  was 
paid  by  the  hour  ;  but  he  saw  I  was  up  to  all  that, 
and  it  wouldn't  do. 

On  the  old  battle  ground  of  Lundy's  Lane,  there  is 
a  wooden  tower  fifty  or  sixty  feet  high,  from  the  top 
of  which  one  can  see  not  only  all  the  ground  on 
which  the  battle  was  fought,  but  also  a  vast  expanse 
of  country  on  both  sides  of  the  river,  including  the 
vicinity  of  the  Falls,  and  also  many  miles  of  the 
river,  its  mouth  and  a  portion  of  Lake  Ontario. 

The  tower  is  ascended  by  means  of  a  winding  stair- 
way ;  and  a  surly  old  cove,  who  pretends  that  he  was 
in  the  battle  of  Lundy's  Lane — but  I'll  bet  my  hat 
he  wasn't — stays  there  and  acts  as  guide.  He  accom- 
panied me  to  the  top  of  the  tower,  and  showed  me  a 
telescope  supported  on  a  pivot.  With  this  I  pro- 
ceeded to  sweep  the  wide,  wide  landscape  before  me, 
and  I  began  to  ask  the  old  "  soldier  "  a  few  questions. 
He  was  very  reticent,  and  his  answers  were  not  only 
very  brief,  but  also  very  vague,  ambiguous,  and  un- 
satisfactory. I  soon  discovered  why.  His  tongue 
had  to  be  greased  with  a  trifle  of  change — for  he  was 
only  employed  by  the  owner  of  the  tower,  who  kept  a 
drinkingsaloon  at  the  bottom — that  is,  the  base-m^ant. 

"  Is  that  Brock's  Monument  ?"  I  queried,  perceiving 


CANADA. 


141 


a  tall  column  of  masonry  in  the  direction  of  Lake 

Ontario. 

"A-hem,"  he  replied,  reluctantly,  and  with  an 
apparent  difficulty  of  articulation-"  I— I—it  bothers 
my  head  to  talk  much,  ever  since  I  got  my  wound  in 
this  battle.  That  is  Brook's-A-hem— I— Visitors 
usually  gives  me— a— a— they  generally-a  little— a 

— a — ahem " 

"  O,  to  be  sure,"  said  I.     "It's  perfectly  right  they 

should  not  forget  your  services." 

I  gave  him  a  quarter,  and  found  his  speech  much 
improved.  Still,  it  was  not  so  fluent  as  I  could  have 
desired,  and  I  further  touched  it  up  in  this  way  : 

"Do  you  ever  drink  any  thing?" 

"Yes,  sometimes,"  he  replied,  distinctly,  brighten- 

ing  UP- 

"The  gentleman  below  keeps  something,  does  he 

not?" 

"Yes,   I   believe   he— Yes,   he   keeps   a   little  on 

hand." 

"  Then,"  said  I,  "  we  will  take  a  little  of  a  good 
article  when  we  go  down.  It  always  does  me  good 
to  take  a  little  something  strengthening  that  way 
with  an  old  soldier— especially  one  who.  like  your- 
self, has  that  graceful  military  air  that  can  leave  no 
doubt  of  his  having  served  his  country  with  distinc- 
tion." 

This  was  certainly  piling  it  on  pretty  strong,  but 
not  too  much  so,  it  seemed,  for  he  took  it  all  with  as 
good  a  grace  as  a  toper  would  take  his  "bitters"  in 
the  morning.  He  grew  extremely  affable,  and  gave 
me  all  the  information  I  wanted ;  and  more,  too,  for  I 


142  JOHN  SMITH   ON  A   CRUTCH. 

am  satisfied  he  made  np  about  thirty-nine  or  forty 
lies  and  told  me — among  which  was  this  one:  That 
he  was  captured  at  Lundy's  Lane  and  taken  before 
General  (then  Colonel)  Winfield  Scott — whom  he 
pronounced  the  noblest  soldier  that  ever  lived — and 
that  the  latter  gave  him  a  drink  of  most  excellent 
rum,  and  said  to  him  :  "  You  have  an  air  of  greatness 
about  you — you  have.  Are  you  not  a  British  general 
in  disguise?" 

The  veteran  guide  also  told  me  that  Buffalo  was 
clearly  visible  through  the  telescope,  and  tried  to 
point  it  out  to  me.  I  will  not  deny  the  fact  that  it 
was  visible  from  the  tower,  but  I  couldn't  "  see  it." 

When  wre  went  below,  I  treated  him,  as  I  had 
promised,  tasting  something  myself;  then  I  asked  the 
proprietor  what  was  to  pay  for  drinks  and  visiting 
the  tower? 

He  let  me  off  for  a  dollar. 

Keturning  to  my  sable  friend  in  the  buggy,  I  got 
in  again  and  told  him  to  drive  to  the  Burning  Springs, 
"  as  fast  as  the  law  would  allow  him;"  and  in  less 
than  half-an-hour  we  were  there. 

The  water  of  these  springs  is  characterized  by  an 
accompaniment  of  inflammable  gas — sulphuretted  hy- 
drogen, I  think — and  when  a  lighted  match  is  ap- 
plied to  it  a  blue  flame  springs  up  over  the  surface, 
like  the  flames  of  burning  spirits. 

I  returned  to  the  Falls  and  found  that  we  had  been 
gone  a  little  over  two  hours  and  a  half.  I  then  gave 
the  darkey  three  dollars,  and  told  him  to  drive  me 
down  to  the  river;  which  he  cheerfully  did. 

The  ferry-boat  was  just  leaving,  as  I  jumped  from 


CANADA.  143 

the  vehicle,  but  the  boatman  saw  me,  and  began  to 
push  back.  To  reach  the  boat,  I  bad  to  step  over 
some  stationary  rocks  that  protruded  from  the  water, 
and  in  attempting  to  step  from  one  of  them  to  the 
boat,  I  slipped,  lost  my  footing,  and  down  I  went 
into  the  river,  striking  my  chin  on  the  sharp  edge  c^f 
the  rock,  as  I  descended,  and  cutting  it  to  the  bone. 
I  went  in  up  to  my  neck,  and  would  have  gone  lower 
still  had  I  not  clung  to  the  rock.  I  scrambled  up 
into  the  boat,  with  some  assistance,  and  the  boatman 
recovered  my  crutch  and  cane  that  were  floating  on 
the  water. 

The  gash  on  my  chin  healed  up  in  a  few  weeks, 
but  it  left  a  scar  that  will  be  unpleasant  ground  for 
my  barber  to  get  over  as  long  as  I  live. 

A  couple  of  days  later,  having  visited  all  the  points 
of  interest  in  the  vicinity  of  Niagara,  I  departed  for 
Buffalo,  a  city  at  the  head  of  the  Niagara  river, 
twenty-two  miles  from  the  Falls.  I  did  not  leave 
however,  without  regret :  I  fancied  I  could  never 
grow  tired  of  Niagara  Falls.  The  great  cataract, 
whose  youth,  and  vigor,  and  might  are  the  same  they 
were  a  thousand  years  ago,  could  never  grow  old  to 
inel 


144  JOHN   SMITH   ON   A   CRUTCH. 


CHAPTER     XX. 

Colonel    John   Smith   at  an    Motel. 

T  LOCATED  in  a  delightful  place  called  "  Cold 
Spring,"  in  the  suburbs  of  Buffalo,  and  there  re- 
/  mained  two  weeks ;  during  which  time  I  recovered 
from  my  cough,  and  the  gash  on  my  chin  healed  up. 
I  made  some  pleasing  acquaintances  at  Cold  Spring, 
and  became  as  much  attached  to  the  beautiful  locality 
as  though  I  had  lived  there  for  years. 

From  Buffalo  I  went  to  Erie,  Pennsylvania ;  thence, 
to  Cleveland,  Ohio,  a  beautiful  city  of  about  forty- 
five  thousand  inhabitants,  situated  on  the  shore  of 
Lake  Erie. 

As  I  desired  to  remain  at  Cleveland  a  week  or  so, 
I  took  lodgings  at  an  hotel  about  two  or  three  miles 
from  the  city,  near  the  terminus  of  the  City  Kailway, 
where  the  air  was  clear  and  pure  and  the  green  fields 
lay  spread  out  around  me  ;  and  yet  where  I  could 
jump  on  a  street-car  and  ride  into  the  heart  of  the 
city  in  twenty-five  or  thirty  minutes. 

While  at  this  hotel,  a  little  incident  happened  to 
me,  which  some  might  term  "funny" — but  I  did  not 
think  it  so  at  the  time,  because  it  was  rather  calcula- 
ted to  wound  my  pride  and  dignity — and  which 
further  illustrates  the  mortification  to  which  an  un- 


COLONEL   JOHN    SMITH    AT   AN   HOTEL.  145 

happy  one-legged  fellow  is  sometimes  subjected, 
through,  the  pardonable  ignorance  or  want  of 
judgment  of  others.  I  was  sitting  on  the  piazza  of 
the  hotel  one  delightful  evening  in  September  en- 
joying the  mild  balmy  air  and  admiring  the  glow- 
ing sunset,  when  two  charming  young  ladies,  in  a 
buggy,  drove  up  to  the  pump  in  front  of  the  hotel 
obviously  with  the  intention  of  quenching  their  deli- 
cate thirst  by  quaffing  the  pure,  sparkling  water. 
One  was  about  to  jump  out  for  the  purpose  of  getting 
the  water  for  herself  and  her  companion.  No  one 
else  was  near.  Could  I  sit  there  and  see  the  beautiful 
creature  climb  out  for  a  draught  of  the  water,  when  it 
was  in  my  power  to  help  them  both  to  it  where  they 
sat,  and  thus  save  them  the  trouble  ?  Not  while  my 
name  was  John  Smith — and  thus  far  the  Legislature 
of  my  State  had  not  been  petitioned  to  change  it. 

"Do  not  get  out,  miss,"  I  said,  rising,  taking  up 
my  crutch,  and  walking  to  the  pump.  u  Do  not  get 
out :  I  will  hand  you  a  drink. — Fine  evening." 

"Yes,  very. — But,  I  am  afraid  it's  too  much  tr — " 

"  0,  not  at  all,"  said  I,  taking  the  pump-handle  in 
one  hand,  and  with  the  other  holding  the  tin  cup  that 
was  at  the  pump  under  the  spout.  "  Pray  remain 
where  you  are." 

"  You  are  so  kind " 

"0,  not  at  all,"  I  interrupted,  as  the  sparkling 
water  gushed  from  the  spout  and  overflowed  the  cup. 

I  handed  the  cup  to  the  nearest  fair  one,  and  she 
handed  it  to  her  companion. 

"  You  drink,"  said  her  companion. 

"  0,  no ;  you,"  said  the  fair  one  nearest  me. 
10 


146  JOHN"    SMITH    ON   A    CRUTCH. 

"No  you  drink  first,''  said  the  other." 

11 1  won't :  you  must  drink  first."  So,  the  one  farthest 
from  me  took  the  cup  and  drank. 

I  describe  this  little  episode  in  the  incident,  because 
I  suppose  it  to  be  a  scene  entirely  new,  and  one  that 
no  person  ever  saw  any  thing  like  before  (?). 

When  the  lovely  one  on  the  other  side  had  drank, 
the  lovely  one  on  my  side  took  the  cup,  which  was 
yet  half  full,  drank  it  off  and  handed  me  the  vessel, 
with  a  sweet, 

"Thank  you." 

"  "Will  you  have  some  more  ?" 

"No,  thank  you." 

"Perhaps,  the  other  lady "      It  will  be  seen 

that  I  was  getting  extremely  gallant. 

"No,  thank  you;  no  more,"  interrupted  the  other 
lady. 

They  had  been  driving  in  the  country — driving  at 
a  lively  pace,  probably — and  I  noticed  that  the  horse 
was  perspiring  and  looked  tired  and  thirsty  ;  so,  my 
humanity  being  fully  equal  to  my  gallantry,  I  said : 

"  Here  is  a  bucket  at  the  pump — perhaps  your 
horse  would — " 

"0,  you  couldn't " 

"Yes,  I  can  easily  give  the  animal  a  bucket  of 
water."     And  I  set  the  bucket  under  the  spout. 

"  If  I  thought  you  could,  easily " 

"I  can,  I  assure  you." 

I  pumped  the  bucket  full  in  three  seconds  and  a 
fraction,  picked  it  up  and  held  it  to  the  mouth  of  the 
"noble  steed."  He  drank  it,  seemed  satisfied,  and 
looked  volumes  of  thanks  at  me  with  his  big  eyes. 


COLONEL   JOHN   SMITH   AT   AN   HOTEL.  147 

Considering  my  mission  at  an  end,  I  set  the  bucket 
down,  and  stood  by  the  pump  in  a  position  favorable 
to  touching  my  cap  gracefully  to  the  la-lies  as  they 
should  thank  me  and  drive  off,  which  I  supposed 
they  would  now  do.  But  here  comes  the  mortifying 
part.  One  of  the  ladies  held  out  her  hand.  Was 
she  going  to  shake  hands  with  me  and  bid  me  an 
affectionate  farewell?  No.  My  brain  reeled,  as  I 
looked  closer  at  the  hand. 

11  Here,  please  take  it,"  said  she. 

Take not  the  hand,  but  a  ten-cent  note  which 

she  held  out  and  desired  me  to  "take"  in  return  for 
my  distinguished  services.  I  felt  the  hot  blood  rush 
fco  my  cheeks,  but  mastering  my  emotion,  I  said : 

"O,  no,  miss,  I  thank  you,  indeed.  I  am  not  the 
porter  here  now.  I  used  to  be,  but  my  Uncle  Charles 
Exeter  Johnson  Smith  died  two  days  before  last 
Christmas  a  year  ago,  and  left  me  a  large' fortune; 
since  which  time,  I  have  only  been  a  boarder  here! 
I  thank  you.  Good  evening."  And  I  turned  and 
walked  away,  while  they  drove  slowly  toward  the 
city. 

I  can  only  impute  the  young  lady's  conduct  to  the 
grossest  ignorance.  I  was  not  miserably  clad,  or  any 
thing  of  that  sort,  and  her  reason  for  offering  me  the 
little  contribution  could  only  have  been  that  I  had 
lost  a  leg,  and  she  no  doubt  thought  it  naturally  fol- 
lowed that  I  was  "  needy."  A  great  mistake.  The 
wealthiest  man  in  the  world  would  have  lost  his  leg 
had  he  been  standing  where  I  was  when  I  was  shot." 

Having  spent  a  week  at  Cleveland,  I  departed  for 
the  smoky  city  of  Pittsburg;  where  I  arrived  one 


148  JOHN   SMITH   ON   A   CRUTCH. 

evening  at  five  o'clock.  Before  returning  to  Philadel 
phia,  I  desired  to  visit  the  celebrated  "  White  Rocks/' 
near  Uniontown,  about  seventy  miles  south  of  Pitts- 
burg; and  ;is  no  train  was  to  leave  for  Uniontown  till 
next  morning,  I  was  obliged  to  remain  in  Pittsburg 
all  night — a  thing  I  never  do  if  I  can  help  it,  because 
I  never  spent  a  comfortable  night  in  the  smoky  old 
place :  nor  do  I  believe  any  other  civilized  person 
ever  did. 

Before  the  train  reached  Pittsburg,  I  had  given 
orders  to  a  baggage-expressman  to  send  my  trunk  to 
the  St.  Charles  hotel,  which  had  once  been  a  first-class 
house,  but  which,  without  my  knowledge,  had  of  late 
degenerated  to  some  extent.  At  the  depot  I  got  into 
a  "  bus"  and  rode  to  the  St.  Charles;  when  I  saw  at  a 
glance  that  it  had  changed  proprietors  and  was  not 
conducted  as  of  yore.  It  was  in  the  hands  of  two  or 
three  brothers  who  were  lineal  descendants  of  the 
patriarch  Abraham.  One  of  them  was  acting  as 
clerk.  He  was  blustering  about  the  office,  like  a  rat 
th.it  had  got  into  a  hot  brick-kiln  and  couldn't  find 
its  way  out,  giving  orders  to  the  porter,  talking  to 
several  guests  at  once,  and  getting  very  little  accom- 
plished. 

11  Can  I  get  a  single  room,  to-night  ?"  I  asked. 

"  I  ton't  knows,"  he  said,  in  the  odious  dialect  of  a 
Teutonic  Jacobite,  "I  sees  apout  it  pretty  soons 
direcklies  leetle  whiles;"  and  he  kept  on  talking  with 
some  body  about  nothing. 

1  stood  by  the  counter  for  some  minutes,  entirely 
unnoticed  by  the  contemptible  fellow  ;  and  beginning 


COLONEL   JOHN   SMITH   AT  AN  HOTEL.  149 

to  thiuk  that  " pretty  soons  direcklies  lee'tle  whiles" 
had  about  expired,  I  said : 

"My  friend,  my  trunk  will  be  here  presently,  and 
I  would  like  to  know  if  you  can  accommodate  me 
with  a  room." 

"In  vun  meenutes,"  he  said.  "We's  some  fulls 
now,  don't  knows." 

Had  I  not  already  ordered  my  trunk  to  this  hotel, 
I  would  not  have  trifled  there  many  seconds,  but 
would  have  gone  at  once  to  another  house.  Wonder- 
ing  why  he  seemed  so  inattentive  to  me,  I  glanced  at 
my  apparel  and  was  thereby  reminded  that  I  was  not 
well  dressed.  I  seldom  wear  good  clothes  during  a 
journey  of  several  hundred  miles  in  a  railroad  car, 
for  the  smoke  and  dust  will  ruin  a  good  suit  of  clothes 
in  half  that  distance.  I  had  on,  for  one  thing,  a  mili- 
tary coat  which  I  had  worn  considerably,  and  it 
immediately  suggested  an  idea  to  me.  I  opened  the 
register,  with  a  commanding  and  dignified  air,  put  on 
expressly  for  the  occasion,  took  up  a  pen,  examined 
it,  found  it  very  good,  but  dashed  it  impatiently 
down,  as  though  not  quite  good  enough  for  me,  then 
took  up  another,  found  it  good  enough,  dipped  it 
savagely  into  the  ink,  and  wrote : 

"JOHN  SMITH,  Colonel  U.  S.  A.,  New  York." 

"There  is  my  name,"  said  I,  turning  the  book 
around,  and  pointing  to  what  I  had  written.  "  Try 
to  hunt  up  a  single  room  for  me,  and  put  my  trunk 
in  it  when  it  comes.  My  name  is  on  it.  There  is  my 
check  for  it.  I  am  going  out  awhile."  And  I  gave 
him  the  check  of  the  baggage-express  agent. 


150  JOHN    SMITH    ON   A   CRUTCH. 

The  disgusting  groveler  glanced  at  my  name,  and 
fairly  jumped  from  the  floor:  he  was  all  obsequious- 
ness in  a  moment. 

"  Certainly,  Colonels,"  he  exclaimed,  and  I  fancied 
he  would  have  embraced  me  if  the  counter  had  not 
been  between  us,  "I  tends  to  it  right  aways."  And 
he  immediately  wrote  the  number  of  a  room  opposite 
my  name.  "Porters,  see  eef  Colonels  Schmidt's 
drunks  comes  yet  aready  now.  Yen  it  ish  comes  put 
it  in  Numbers  Finf.  We  sees  to  it,  Colonels.  You 
says  you  goes  out?  Yell,  you  have  suppers  any 
times  vat  you  vants  it." 

All  eyes  were  turned  on  me.  Those  present  must 
have  thought  me  a  rather  youngdooking  colonel.  I 
have  no  doubt  that  a  great  many  went  to  the  register 
and  examined  my  signature,  after  my  back  was 
turned.  They  were  no  doubt  proud  of  the  honor; 
too. 

I  walked  out,  and  had  just  descended  the  steps  of 
the  hotel,  when  I  ran  against  a  young  man  who  had  a 
cane  in  his  hand  and  walked  a  little  lame. 

"  Excuse  me,"  I  said. 

'•  Xo  harm  done —  "  he  began,  then  opened  his  eyes 
wide  with  surprise  and  interrupted  himself  with, 
11  Why,  John  Smith  !  this  you?" 

It  was  "Chris"  Miller,  whom  I  had  known  at 
Haddington  Hospital,  and  he  was  walking  on  his 
artificial  leg. 

II  Hollo  !  Miller,  my  boy  !  How  do  you  do  ?"  1 
exclaimed,  as  we  shook  hands. 

11  Fine,"  he  said. 

11  Do  you  live  here  ?" 


COLONEL   JOHN   SMITH   AT  AN   HOTEL.  151 

«  Yes— or  rather,  in  Alleghany  City." 

"I  am  glad  we  have  met.  I  stay. at  the  St.  Charles 
to-night.     I  hope  you  are  not  engaged." 

"No." 

"Then  you  must  take  supper  with  me.  Come  up 
a  moment ;  then  we  will  take  a  walk." 

I  re-entered  the  hotel,  accompanied  by  Miller,  and 
opening  the  register  again  with  the  air  of  the  owner, 
I  wrote  immediately  under  my  name: 

"MAJOR  C.  MILLER,  Pittsburg  Arsenal." 

"  Major  Miller,"  said  I,  addressing  the  clerk,  "  will 
take  supper  with  me." 

"All  right,  Colonels,"  was  the  obsequious  reply; 
"any  times  you  blease." 

Miller  and  I  walked  out  for  a  stroll,  and  I  explained 
to  him,  somewhat  to  his  amusement,  my  reason  for 
adopting  those  high-sounding  military  titles.  We 
then  stopped  at  the  first  respectable  saloon,  and  took 
a  hearty  lemonade,  with  a  powerful  "stick"  in  it — 
dispensing  with  the  lemons,  water  and  sugar. 

We  soon  returned,  and,  after  supper  at  the  hotel, 
walked  out  for  another  stroll  about  the  city.  At  ten 
o'clock  we  parted,  and  I  returned  to  the  hotel,  ready 
to  retire. 

"Colonels,"  said  the  clerk,  "you  drunks  comes. 
We  puts  him  in  ze  rooms  for  you." 

"  Very  well ;  I  will  retire,"  I  said.  "  See  that  I  am 
awakened  in  time  for  the  seven- o'clock  train  for 
Uniontown." 

'  Certainly,  Colonels;  we  tends  to  dat.     You  vants 
to  go  to  pet  ?     I  shows  you  de  rooms." 


152        JOHN  SMITH  ON  A  CRUTCH. 

He  went  with  me  to  a  double-bedded  room  on  the 
first  floor,  where  I  found  my  trunk,  (with  a  fresh  dent 
in  it,)  and  lighting  the  gas  for  me,  and  leaving  the 
key  in  the  door,  he  bade  me  a  humble  good  night,  as, 
with  a  cringing  bow,  he  retired  from  my  military 
presence. 

It  was  after  one  o'clock  before  the  mosquitoes  con- 
sented to  my  going  asleep,  and  I  had  not  been  asleep 
long,  when  thump,  thump,  knock,  knock,  knock, 
went  some  one  at  my  door,  breaking  upon  my  slum- 
bers most  unpleasantly.  They  wanted  to  put  another 
man  in  my  room,  and,  as  I  did  not  concur  in  the 
arrangement,  I  lay  still  and  let  them  pound  at  the 
door  till  their  knuckles  were  sore.  At  last  I  heard 
some  one  say : 

"  There's  no  waking  that  fellow." 

Presently  a  hurried  footstep  approached,  and  the 
well-known  voice  of  the  clerk  who  had  assigned  me 
my  room,  exclaimed  excitedly  : 

"  Vat  you  does  dere  ?  Dat's  de  Colonels !  Mein 
Gott!" 

And  I  was  left  in  peaceable  and  untrammeled 
possession  of  the  room. 

I  was  awakened  in  due  time  in  the  morning ;  and, 
putting  my  rusty-looking  clothes  into  my  trunk  and 
donning  a  more  respectable  suit,  I  came  down  to 
breakfast,  and  received  such  marked  attention  that  I 
began  to  fancy  myself  a  major-general,  instead  of  a 
mere  colonel.  Immediately  after  breakfast,  I  paid 
my  bill — ($5.25)— found  a  carriage  awaiting  me  at 
the  door;   and,  having  been  bidden  an  affectionate 


COLONEL    JOHN   SMITH   AT   AN   HOTEL.  153 

adieu  by  the  proprietors,  three  or  four  times,  I  rode 
to  the  depot. 

I  have  not  recorded  this  incident  for  the  purpose 
of  injuring  the  St.  Charles  Hotel;  as  it  has  since 
changed  proprietors,  and  is  now  conducted  in  a 
creditable  manner. 

If  you  want  to  get  along  smoothly  and  comfortably 
while  traveling,  do  not  fail  to  make  the  clerks  and 
proprietors  of  hotels  believe  you  are  something  more 
than  mortal :  if  you  don't,  you  will  find  rough  sailing. 
A  very  good  plan  is  to  knock  down  a  porter  or  waiter 
now  and  then,  by  way  of  preserving  your  dignity. 
You  will  find  it  profitable.  Also,  threaten  to  shoot 
the  proprietor,  occasionally,  when  you  have  a  shadow 
of  a  pretext :  that  will  never  fail  to  establish  your 
importance.  Above  all,  I  enjoin  you  to  register 
yourself  as  a  senator,  governor  or  military  officer. 


154  JOHN   SMITH   ON   A   CKUTCH. 


CHAPTER    XXI. 
Courtesies   of  Travelers. 

AFTER  a  ramble  through  the  wild  mountainous 
region  of  southwestern  Pennsylvania,  I  re- 
turned to  Philadelphia;  and  soon  afterward 
started  for  Washington,  to  remain  there  a  few  weeks 
in  the  capacity  of  correspondent. 

When  I  travel  in  a  railroad  car,  I  always  prefer 
that  end  of  the  seat  next  to  the  window.  My  reasons 
for  this  are  various.  For  one  thing  a  person  can  get 
a  little  fresh  air,  when  he  wants  it — and  too  much 
when  he  don't  want  it — he  can  get  a  far  better  view 
of  the  scenery  without;  and,  besi-les,  he  can  keep  a 
look-out  ahead  for  collisions,  and  jump  out  head  fore- 
most, if  he  sees  another  train  coming  from  the  oppo- 
site direction  on  the  same  track.  Influenced  bv  these 
considerations,  I  always  manage  to  get  to  the  depot  a 
full  half-hour  before  the  starting-time  of  the  train, 
and  this  course  never  fails  to  secure  me  my  favorite 
end  of  the  seat. 

On  this  occasion,  I  was  at  the  depot  at  Broad  and 
Prime  street^,  in  good  time,  and  had  no  difficulty  in 
locating  myself  on  the  train  to  my  perfect  satisfaction. 
When  the  car  was  nearly  full  of  passengers,  and  it 
was  within  two  minutes  of  the  time  for  starting,  a 


COURTESIES    OF   TRAVELERS.  155 

lady  and  gentleman  came  in,  and  began  to  canvass  the 
interior  in  search  of  a  wholly  vacant  seat  that  they 
might  both  occupy  ;  but  their  search  proved  futile. 
Quite  a  number  of  the  seats  were  occupied  by  but 
one  passenger,  each,  but  there  was  not  one  entirely 
vacant,  Failing  to  find  an  empty  seat,  the  gentleman 
concluded  he  would  make  one  empty,  and  he  there- 
fore came  to  me,  and  sad : 

"  Young  man,  won't  you  take  a  seat  with  another 
gentleman  and  give  us  this  seat?" 
*  -Very  cheerfully,"  I  replied,  "if  the  other  gentle- 
man  will  allow  me  to  sit  by  the  window." 

He  regarded  this  as  equivalent  to  a  refusal,  and 
became  vexed. 

"  But,"  he  said,  rather  petulantly,  "don't  you  see  I 
have  my  la  ly  with  me  ?" 

Until  he  said  this,  I  had  supposed  her  to  be  his 

wife. 

"My  friend,"  I  returned,  "I  came  to  the  station 
early  for  the  express  purpose  of  obtaining  a  comforta- 
ble seat,  and  I  do  not  think  it  right  that  I  should  keep 
it  this  long,  and  then  give  it  up  to  another.  I  there- 
fore respectfully  decline  to  relinquish  my  seat." 

"I  hope,"  said  he,  fairly  grinding  his  teeth  with 
anger  and  vexation,  "that  you  will  some  day  be 
traveling  with  a  lady,  and " 

"I  hope  so,"  I  interrupted;  "but  I  fear  I  will 
never  be  so  fortunate." 

"Well,"  he  rejoined,  changing  his  tactics,  "I  will 
see  the  conductor,  and  see  if  he  don't  make  the 
arrangement  for  me." 

"Very  well,"  I  retorted;  "see  the  conductor.    I 


156        JOHN  SMITH  ON  A  CRUTCH. 

myself  would  like  to  see  a  conductor  with  the  power 
and  authority  to  take  this  seat  from  me.  That  con- 
ductor would  be  a  living  wonder.  Barnum  would 
pay  handsomely  for  him." 

"  Young  man,"  put  in  a  gentleman  behind  me,  who 
was  also  occupying  a  seat  alone,  "  why  don't  you 
give  them  the  seat  ?     You  can  sit  by  me." 

M  Why  don't  you  f"  I  retorted.  "  You  can  sit  by 
me." 

11 1  like  to  sit  by  the  window,"  he  responded ;  "  and 
am  not  well." 

"  I,  too,  am  partial  to  the  window,"  said  I,  "  and 
have  been  at  the  point  of  death  for  a  long  time,  with 
the  toothache  and  a  bad  cold.  I  am  quite  an  invalid. 
— Now,  my  friend,"  I  went  on,  addressing  the  gentle- 
man with  his  lad//,  u  why  did  you  come  to  me,  the 
first  one.  and  ask  me  to  move,  when  you  see  that  I 
am  a  cripple  ?  There  are  others  in  the  car  who 
occupy  whole  seats,  and  who  could  certainly  move 
more  easily  than  I.  Were  I  the  only  one,  I  would 
willingly  resign  my  seat,  for  the  accommodation  of 
the  lady." 

"  I  think  you  shouldn't  ask  him  to  move,"  said  a 
gentleman  who  sat  with  another  on  an  opposite  seat. 
"A  man  with  but  one  leg  ought  to  have  some  show 
in  the  world." 

This  remark  made  the  first  gentleman  a  little 
ashamed  of  himself,  and  he  turned  and  said  to  his 
lady : 

"  Come,  let  us  try  another  car." 

They  walked  to  the  car-door,  and  not  one  offered 
to  surrender  his  much-loved  seat-by-the*window,  to 


COURTESIES   OF   TRAVELERS.  157 

accommodate  them.  Man  is  naturally  a  selfish,  crea- 
ture, and  nowhere  is  his  selfishness  brought  oat  in  so 
strong  a  light  as  on  a  railroad  car.  Do  not  censure 
me,  gentle  public,  for  not  relinquishing  my  seat. 
This  was  not  the  first  or  last  time  I  was  asked  to 
abandon  a  comfortable  seat  in  a  car,  after  taking  the 
trouble  to  go  early  and  secure  it.  It  seems  that  in 
such  cases,  they  always  come  right  to  me.  I  do  not 
know  why.  It  may  be  that  I  look  young,  innocent 
and  verdant ;  and  that  they  jump  to  the  conclusion 
that  I  am  one  of  those  persons  who,  as  the  poet 
doesn't  say : 

<;  Know  not  their  rights  ; 
And,  knowing  not,  dare  not  maintain." 

When  I  saw  the  two  unfortunates  about  to  leave 
the  car,  I  called  them  back. 

11  Come,"  I  said ;  "  you  can  have  my  seat.  I  can- 
not see  a  lady  in  a  dilemma,  when  I  can  relieve  her 
by  making  so  slight  a  sacrifice."  And  I  arose,  seized 
my  crutch  and  was  about  to  walk  out  from  between 
the  seats. 

"No,  no,"  said  the  gentleman  who  occupied  the 
seat  behind  me,  and  whose  better  nature  began  to 
show  itself,  while,  at  the  same  time  a  dozen  others 
arose,  ready  to  give  up  their  seats.  "  No,  you  musn't 
move.  You're  crippled,  and  I  am  not.  They  can 
take  my  seat."  And  he  jumped  up,  with  an  agility 
that  one  could  scarcely  expect  to  see  displayed  by  an 
invalid,  and  took  a  seat  beside  me;  while  the  gentle- 
man and  his  lady  returned,  and  took  possession  of  the 
vacated  seat,  without  a  single  expression  of  thanks. 


158  JOHN   SMITH    OX   A    CRUTCH. 

"Well,"  said  I,  addressing  my  companion,  "if  you 
wish  to  take  the  end  by  the  window,  1  will  exchange 
with  you — at  least,  for  part  of  the  journey." 

"0,  never  mind,"  he  replied :  "  I  am  only  going  as 
far  as  Wilmington." 

Here,  then,  was  a  man  who  was  only  going  about 
twenty  miles,  who  had  at  first  refused  to  give  up  his 
seat  for  the  accommodation  of  the  lady,  and  yet  ex- 
pected me  to  give  up  mine,  which  I  had  secured  for  a 
ride  of  a  hundred  and  forty  miles.  O,  the  selfishness 
of  the  traveler! 

As  I  remarked  before,  there  are  always  a  dozen  or 
two  of  passengers  who  come  aboard  the  car  at  the 
eleventh  hour,  and  have  a  time  of  it  getting  seated. 
Among  them  there  are  usually  two  or  three  gentlemen 
with  their  ladies,  as  in  this  case,  and  they  always 
come  to  me,  the  first  thing,  and  ask  me  to  give  up 
my  seat.  I  have  long  since,  however,  adopted  a 
course  to  pursue  on  such  occasions,  which,  although 
it  involves  a  little  fib  or  two — which  are  certainly 
pardonab'le — spares  me  all  controversy.  On  being 
asked  to  remove  from  my  seat  and  take  the  wrong 
end  of  another,  I  smilingly  state  that  I  would  cheer- 
fully do  so  if  I  were  alone,  but  that  unfortunately, 
my  wife  and  three  little  boys  are  out  on  the  platform, 
bidding  some  friends  good-by,  and  will  presently 
come  in  to  share  the  seat  with  me.  Of  course  they 
don't  detect  the  "white  one"  till  the  train  has  started, 
and  by  that  time,  they  have  procured  seats,  by  some 
means ;  and  I  don't  care  how  much  I  overhear  them 
— as  I  often  do — wondering  "  where  that  one-legged 
fellow's  wife  and  three  little  boys  went  to  ?" 


THE   CITY   OF   MAGNIFICENT   DISTANCES.        159 


CHAPTER    XXII. 
it  The    City   of     Magnificent   Distances." 

"TT7ASHINGT0N  CITY  is  styled  the  "City  of 
VV    Magnificent  Distances,"  because  it  is  laid   out 
/  to  cover  a  space  four  and  a  half  miles  long  by 

two  and  a  half  miles  wide,  that  is,  eleven  square 
miles.  It  is  the  Capital  of  the  United  States  of 
America,  and  is  composed  of  the  Capitol  building, 
the  Treasury  building,  the  Post-Office  building,  the 
Patent  Office  building,  the  Executive  Mansion,  War 
and  State  Department  buildings,  the  Smithsonian 
Institute,  Willard's  Hotel  and  five  thousand  gin- 
mills.  Such  is  the  Capital  of  our  country,  the  "City 
of  Magnificent  Distances:"  and  if  it  were  a  magnifi- 
cent distance  from  the  Country,  the  Country  would 
be  much  better  off  and  much  more  well-to-do  in  the 
world.  I  regret  that  a  city  which  bears  the  name  of 
that  noble  and  pure  man,  George  Washington,  should 
be  such  a  concentration  of  vice,  corruption,  intrigue, 
fraud  and  iniquity,  as  it  has  become  of  late  years. 

It  was  night  when  I  reached  Washington,  and 
going  to  an  hotel  and  registering  my  name,  John 
Smith,  Major  U.  S.  Army— I  never  go  below  the 
rank  of  major — I  received  every  attention.  While 
there,  my  bill  was  only  twenty-five  or  thirty  dollars 


160  JOHN'    SMITH    ON    A    CRUTCH. 

a  week,  which  they  did  not  ask  me  to  pay  till  I  -vas 
ready  to  leave,  several  weeks  after,  and  then  I  paid 
it  without  being  asked.  Meantime  all  the  attaches  of 
the  hotel  were  so  attentive,  obliging  and  polite,  that 
I  did  not  find  it  necessary  to  kill  a  single  one  of  them 

The  day  following  my  arrival  in  Washington,  the 
weather  being  fine,  I  walked  out  to  Tenallytown, 
three  miles  from  Georgetown,  to  visit  the  old  ground 
on  which  I  had  been  encamped  for  several  months, 
while  a  soldier,  early  in  the  war.  I  found  the  ground 
without  difficulty,  as  well  as  a  handsome  earthwork 
our  division  had  thrown  up  while  there,  and  which  I 
myself  had  worked  on.  It  had  been  originally  named 
Fort  Pennsylvania,  but  was  now  called  Fort  Reno. 
Thinking  I  should  like  to  walk  in  I  approached  the 
entrance,  and  found  it  guarded  by  a  negro  soldier, 
with  musket  and  bayonet;  while  a  sable  corporal 
stood  talking  to  him. 

"  You  can't  come  in  dis  place,  sah,"  said  the  corporal 
with  an  insolent  grin,  before  I  was  near  enough  to 
solicit  admittance. 

I  could  not  help  feeling  cut  by  such  a  greeting  as 
this,  from  a  negro,  at  the  entrance  of  a  fort  I  had 
helped  to  build.  I  smothered  my  rising  indignation, 
however,  and  with  a  sunny  smile  replied : 

II  No  admittance,  eh  ?" 

"  No,  sah ;  guess  not,"  was  the  taunting  reply. 

"I  did  not  know  that,"  I  rejoined,  still  keeping 
down  my  wrath.  "I  helped  to  build  the  fort,  and 
thought  I  would  like  to  take  a  look  through  it. 
However,  I  suppose  you  are  ordered  to  allow  no  one 
to  enter." 


THE   CITY   OF   MAGNIFICENT   DISTANCES.       161 

"Guess  we  is.     You  helped  to  build  it,  eh?" 

"  Yes." 

"You  didn't  tink  den  us  cullud  fellahs  'd  git  posses- 
sion !"  he  said,  with  an  insolent  laugh. 

Without  replying  I  turned  and  walked  away. 

I  cannot  imagine  why  this  black  brute  should  thus 
wantonly  insult  an  inoffensive  person  like  me,  and 
especially  a  crippled  ex-soldier  who  had  walked  all 
the  way  from  Georgetown  to  see  his  old  camping- 
ground:  but  I  have  given  the  words  as  he  spoke 
them.  I  do  not  relate  the  incident  because  it  will 
please  or  displease  any  political  party :  I  simply  tell 
the  truth.  No  one  will  fail  to  admit  that  it  was  bu-* 
miliating  and  mortifying  to  me,  after  having  helped 
to  build  the  fort,  to  be  insolently  turned  away  from  it 
by  a  coarse  and  ignorant  negro.  Had  a  white  soldier 
been  on  post  there,  he  would  have  received  me  cordi- 
ally, and  if  his  orders  not  to  admit  any  one  had  been 
very  strict,  he  would  have  sent  some  one  to  his  officer 
and  asked  permission  to  let  me  go  in.  There  is 
always  a  certain  sympathy  between  soldiers  of  one 
race ;  but  I  never  yet  saw  any  between  white  and 
black  soldiers. 

Although  I  had  been  in  Washington  many  times, 
I  had  never  yet  ascended  the  dome  of  the  Capitol,  or 
visited  the  embryo  "Washington  Monument;"  so, 
next  day,  I  determined  to  visit  both.  In  the  Capitol, 
at  the  base  of  the  stairway  leading  to  the  dome,  the 
doorkeeper  asked  me  if  I  had  a  pass  to  go  up. 

"  No,"  I  replied ;  "  I  was  not  aware  that  any  was  re- 
quired." 
U 


162  JOHN    SMITH    ON   A   CRUTCH. 

"  Yes,  visitors  are  not  admitted  to  the  dome  with- 
out passes." 

"If  you  will  tell  me  where  to  get  one  "  I  rejoined, 
"  I  will  go  and " 

11  0,  never  mind,"  he  interrupted.  "  I  won't  send 
you  for  a  pass.     But  can  you  walk  to  the  top  ?" 

"  0,  yes." 

11  Go  ahead  then,  and  never  mind  the  pass.  Don't 
fall." 

"  Thank  you,"  I  replied,  beginning  the  ascent. 

I  must  say  this  much  for  my  race — for  this  was  a 
white  man — that  it  is  not  made  up  entirely  of  selfish- 
ness. I  frequently  meet  with  little  courtesies  like 
this,  and  they  are  very  gratifying  to  me  :  not  for 
their  intrinsic  merit,  alone,  but  because  they  show 
cheerful  little  gleamings  of  the  bright  side  of  the 
human  heart. 

When  I  reached  the  top  of  the  dome,  I  felt  a  little 
tired ;  but  probably  not  much  more  so  than  others 
who  ascended.  It  is  a  fatiguing  task  for  any  one,  to 
ascend  to  the  height  of  three  hundred  feet,  by  means 
of  a  winding  stairway. 

That  same  afternoon  I  visited  the  unfinished  monu- 
ment erected  to  the  memory  of  George  Washington. 
This  monument  is  beautiful  in  design.  It  was  to  have 
been  five  hundred  feet  high,  surrounded  at  the  base 
by  a  pantheon  one  hundred  feet  high  and  two  hundred 
and  fifty  feet  in  diameter.  But  it  has  only  reached 
the  height  of  one  hundred  and  seventy  feet,  having 
there  abruptly  stopped.  It  stands  now  a  monument 
of  the  forgetf illness  and  ingratitude  of  the  American 
people.    Till  it  is  finished— which  I  fear  will  never 


THE   CITY   OF   MAGNIFICENT   DISTANCES.        163 

be — the  whole  land  ought  to  be  covered  with   one 
broad  blush  of  shame. 

The  monument  was  commenced  years  ago,  by  a 
certain  "Association"  which  collected  large  sums  of 
money  for  the  purpose  ;  and  for  a  short  time  the  work 
went  on  so  actively  that  had  it  thus  continued  till 
now,  the  grand  column  of  stone  would  have  pierced 
the  clouds,  and  there  would  have  been  no  way  of 
getting  at  the  top  except  by  means  of  a  balloon.  It 
stopped  short,  however,  at  the  height  mentioned  ;  and 
its  square  blunt-looking  top  is  covered  with  boards, 
to  keep  the  rain  off;  the  poorly  protected  walls  are 
cracking;  and  the  stray  swine  are  rooting  and  wallow- 
ing about  in  the  mud  at  its  base.  Not  seventy  years 
have  elapsed  since  George  ^Washington,  without  whom 
we  would  probably  never  have  been  an  inde- 
pendent nation,  passed  from  earth,  and  now,  alas  !  it 
seems  that  his  memory  has  also  passed  from  the  hearts 
of  his  unworthy  countrymen.  Take  John  Smith's 
word  for  it,  reader,  a  nation  that  can  thus  soon  forget 
its  father  and  founder,  the  very  author  of  its  being, 
must,  at  no  very  distant  day,  lose  sight  of  itself. 
Byron  says : 

"There  is  the  moral  of  all  human  tales; 
Tis  but  the  same  rehearsal  of  the  past: 
First  freedom,  and  then  glory — when  that  fails, 
Wealth,  vice,  corruption,  harbarism  at  last." 

In  the  Revolutionary  war  we  gained  our  freedom ; 

in  the  war  of  1812  we  perpetuated  it;  in  the  Mexican 

war  we  gained  glory ;   then  followed  wealth,  in  the 

acquisition  of  California,  Texas  and  other  territory  ; 

in  the  recent  civil  war,  we  almost  reached  the  vicei 

corruption  and  barbarism. 


164  JOHN-    SMITH    ON   A   CRUTCH. 

Next  day  I  rode  out  to  Georgetown,  in  a  street-car, 
and  then  hired  a  riding-horse,  to  visit  Camp  Pierpont, 
Virginia,  several  miles  from  the  Chain  Bridge,  where 
I  had  spent  my  first  winter  in  the  army.  The  pro- 
prietor of  the  livery  stable,  as  he  led  the  horse  out, 
saddled  and  bridled,  said : 

"You  can  ride  a  horse,  eh?" 

11  With  ease,"  I  replied. 

"  How  will  you  manage  to  get  on  ?"  he  asked. 

"  This  way,"'  I  replied  ;  and  I  placed  one  hand  on 
the  saddle  and  the  other  on  my  crutch,  and  sprung 
up  with  ease. 

He  opened  his  eyes  with  astonishment. 

"Whew!  You  get  on  a  horse  easier  than  I  can. 
But  don't  get  thrown  off." 

"I  won't,"  1  replied.  "Get  up,  old  hoss!"  And 
touching  the  animal  with  a  spur  I  had  put  on — I  only 
wear  one,  on  ordinary  occasions — darted  away  toward 
the  river  at  a  brisk  gallop. 

I  visited  the  old  camping-ground,  and  had  the 
satisfaction  of  finding  the  exact  spot — now  lonely  and 
deserted — on  which  the  cabin  of  our  mess  had  stood 
during  the  first  winter  of  the  war,  and  on  which  I 
had  slept  many  a  night,  with  a  thin  blanket  and  hard 
puncheon  floor  under  me,  a  wood  fire  in  the  chimney 
near  my  feet — I  had  two  of  the  articles  then — and  my 
knapsack,  containing  an  extra  shirt  and  pair  of 
drawers,  a  few  writing-materials,  letters  and  photo- 
graphs of  friends,  under  my  head.  How  the  old 
scenes  did  come  back  to  me!  How  vividly  I  saw,  in 
imagination,  the  forms  and  faces  that  have  passed 
away,  and  heard  the  merry  voices  that  are  hushed 


THE   CITY   OP   MAGNIFICENT   DISTANCES.        165 

forever!  How  distinctly  I  saw  and  heard  around  me 
a  hundred  of  the  liveliest  boys  of  my  old  regiment, 
who  sleep  in  unmarked  graves  before  Bichmond,  at 
Bull  Run,  South  Mountain,  Antietam,  Fredericksburg 
and  Gettysburg !  I  had  visited  the  old  ground  because 
I  thought  it  would  be  a  pleasure,  but  somehow, 
when  the  scenes  of  the  past  came  crowding  back  upon 
me,  and  I  remembered  so  many  of  my  jovial  comrades, 
now  no  more,  a  melancholy  settled  over  me;  and 
when  I  turned  away  toward  Washington,  it  was  with 
a  sadness  of  heart  that  I  cannot  express. 


1 


166  JOHN   SMITH    ON   A    CRUTCH. 


CHAPTER     XXIII. 

Smith's   Experience    on  a    Skate. 

f"  SPENT  the  ensuing  winter* in  Philadelphia,  the 
|  great  city  which  was  laid  out  by  William  Penn, 
/  Esquire,  who  took  a  checker-board — an  article 
used  in  a  game  invariably  played  "  on  the  square  " — 
for  a  pattern,  and,  hence,  laid  it  out  in  squares  that 
were  perfectly  square,  and  have  remained  so  to  the 
present  day.  Mr.  Penn  deserves  great  credit  for  his 
peaceable  manner  of  acquiring  the  land  on  which  the 
city  is  built.  Instead  of  going  to  work  and  killing 
the  poor  innocent  savages,  like  others  did,  he  pur- 
chased the  land  from  them,  at  a  good  round  price  in 
buttons,  keys,  tooth  picks,  shoe-pegs,  marbles,  rum 
and  the  like.  This  course,  besides  speaking  well  for 
the  goodness  of  his  heart,  is  also  strong  evidence  of 
his  superior  judgment  and  foresight,  as  the  Indians  at 
that  time  were  too  numerous  to  be  easily  overcome. 

One  day,  in  the  middle  of  the  skating  season,  I 
concluded  to  go  down  to  Eastwick  Park,  Mr.  E.  0. 
Lowry's  popular  resort,  and  amuse  myself  awhile  by 
watching  the  skaters  tumbling  head  over  heels  and 
cracking  their  brain-pans  on  the  ice.  I  always  had 
a  passion  for  seeing  any  one  fall,  especially  on  skates. 
There  is  a  calm,  quiet  enjoyment  about  it — to  the 


SMITH'S  experience  on  a  skate.  167 

observer — that  is  not  equaled  by  any  thing  else.  "  We 
always,"  remarks  La  Rochefoucault  "have  strength 
enough  to  bear  the  misfortunes  of  others,"  a  saying 
which,  however  humiliating  it  may  be  to  confess  it, 
has  a  certain  truth.  The  ancient  Greek  writer  Isi- 
dorus  puts  it  very  bluntly  when  he  says:  "Nothing 
is  more  pleasant  than  to  sit  at  ease  in  the  harbor  and 
behold  the  shipwreck  of  others,"  a  sentiment  which 
is  repeated  in  an  old  English  song : 

u  I  wander  not  to  seek  for  more  : 
In  greatest  storm  I  sit  on  shore. 
And  laugh  at  those  that  toil  in  vain, 
To  get  what  must  be  lost  again  ;" 

to  wit,  their  life.     But  to  return  to  myself: 

For  the  information  of  non-residents  of  Philadel- 
phia, I  will  state  that  Eastwick  Park  is  the  largest 
skating-park  in  the  world.  It  is  a  resort  for  pleasure 
seekers,  both  in  the  winter  and  in  the  summer :  for 
skating;  and  dancing;  in  the  former  season ;  and 
dancing  and  rowing  in  the  latter.  It  is  something  for 
Philadelphia  to  boast  of,  and  for  which  she  is  indebted 
to  the  enterprise  of  the  Park  King,  Mr.  R.  0.  Lowry. 
The  smooth  lake  of  ice  was  alive  with  skaters,  of 
both  sexes,  and  the  scene  was  one  of  the  gayest.  I 
had  not  seen  much  skating  since  my  return  from  the 
army,  and,  0,  how  this  made  me  regret  my  inability 
to  enjoy  the  delightful  exercise.  For  the  fir.-t  time,  I 
heartily  regretted  that  I  had  ever  served  my  country, 
and  lost  one  of  my  nether  limbs;  and,  in  my  vexation, 
felt  that  if  I  had  it  to  do  over,  my  loved  land  might 
go  to  the  deuce  before  I  would  sacrifice  a  leg,  and 
thus  deprive  myself  of  such  delightful  recreation. 


168  JOHN    SMITH   ON   A   CRUTCH. 

"Never  more,"  I  muttered,  "will  my  nirible  feet 
glide  over  the  smooth  ice,  and  the  bright,  ringing 
steel  of  my  skates  sing  gleeful  songs  behind  me,  while 
I  fly  like  the  wind  I  Never  more  shall  I  go  it  at  the 
rate  of  twenty  miles  an  hour,  tumble  heels  over  head 
on  the  dear,  clear,  smooth,  cold  ice,  get  my  head 
cracked  and  my  eyes  blacked,  and  spring  up  and  try 
it  again,  cheerful  and  happy!  Ah,  John  Smith! 
John  Smith!  thy  skating  days  are  over!  They  are 
numbered  with  the  things  of  the  past,  and  with  the 
things  that  were,  and  are  not!" 

Just  then,  the  veteran  skater,  Colonel  P  *  *  *,  an 
excellent  friend  of  mine,  came  gliding  gracefully 
along,  to  the  shore  of  the  lake,  where  I  was  standing, 
and  seeing  me,  said,  with  his  usual  cheerful  and 
jovial  manner : 

"  How  do  you  do,  Smith  ?  You  are  looking  on  as 
though  you  would  like  to  try  it." 

"  I  wish  it  were  possible,  Colonel,"  I  replied. 

"  Did  you  skate  before  you  went  into  the  army  ?" 

"  0,  yes." 

"  Well,  why  don't  you  try  it  ?" 

"  On  a  crutch  ?" 

"  Certainly — as  active  as  you  are,  I  have  no  doubt 
you  could  skate.     Try  it !" 

"I  would  as  soon  risk  another  battle,"  said  I. 
n  Who  ever  heard  of  a  man  skating  on  one  leg?" 

"  Have  you  never  heard  of  the  like  ?" 

"I  think  not." 

"I  have  then.  Last  year,  I  read  of  a  one-legged 
skater  in  Boston.  He  was  hard  to  beat  too,  it  was 
said." 


smith's  experience  on  a  skate.         169 

"Ah?    Is  that  so?" 

"  I  assure  you  it  is.  Go  into  the  skate-room,  get  a 
skate  and  try  it.  There  is  a  little  nook  of  ice  extending 
behind  the  buildings,  try  it  there  first,  and  if  you  find 
it  a  success,  you  can  venture  out  upon  the  main  body 
of  ice." 

"I  believe  I  will,"  I  said. 

I  went  into  the  skate-room,  and  somewhat  aston- 
ished the  clerk  by  asking  for  "  half-a-pair  of  skates." 

"Are  you  in  earnest?"  he  asked. 

"  Yes,  by  all  means." 

"  Can  you  skate  ?" 

"  Yes,"  I  replied,  although  I  had  never  yet  tried  it 
in  my  present  condition ;  "  no  mere  amateur  can  beat 
me." 

He  gave  me  the  skate,  lent  me  a  gimlet  and  file, 
and  furnished  me  with  a  couple  of  nails.  I  drove  one 
of  the  nails  into  the  lower  end  of  the  crutch  and  the 
other  into  the  end  of  the  cane,  and  filed  them  off 
sharp  about  half-an-inch  from  the  wood.  I  then  put 
on  the  skate  and  went  out  upon  the  ice  in  rear  of  the 
row  of  buildings.  With  some  misgivings,  I  stepped 
on  the  ice  and  gave  myself  a  shove.  I  sailed  out 
pretty  nicely,  and  didn't  fall.  To  my  astonishment 
and  delight,  I  discovered  that  I  could  skate  nearly  as 
well  as  ever.  This  discovery  lent  me  confidence  and 
vigor,  and,  without  hesitation,  I  glided  out  upon  the 
extensive  lake  of  ice,  among  the  throng  of  skaters, 
where  I  was  regarded  as  a  novelty ;  and,  in  a  word,  I 
created  quite  a  sensation.  I  felt  that  I  would  much 
rather  all  the  eyes  turned  upon  me  had  been  bullets 
aimed  at  me ;  but  I  "  cheeked "  it  out,  with  all  the 


170  JOHN    SMITH    ON   A   CRUTCH. 

"  brass  "  I  could  muster,  and  glided  around,  apparently 
so  much  at  my  ease,  that  the  observers  might  have 
fancied  it  was  not  my  first  attempt  to  skate  on  one 
leg,  but  that,  on  the  contrary,  I  had  skated  many 
thousand  miles  thus.  I  soon  met  my  friend,  the 
Colonel,  who  was  highly  elated  at  my  success. 

As  this  was  my  first  exercise  of  this  kind,  since 
my  return  from  the  army,  I  only  remained  on  the  ice 
about  five  hours  that  day:  by  the  end  of  which  time 
I  felt  as  though  I  might  travel  two  or  three  times 
around  the  globe  on  a  skate. 

I  did  get  a  fall  or  two,  of  course.  In  fact,  I  had  not 
been  on  the  ice  fifteen  minutes,  when  I  got  to  skating 
too  fast  —my  skate  going  so  fast  that  I  couldn't  keep 
up — and  the  result  was  that  I  presently  had  the  ice 
for  a  pillow,  and  lay  there  gazing  at  the  clouds,  with 
only  one  overhanging  skate-clad  foot  to  interrupt 
the  view.  Then,  before  I  had  time  to  stir  from  this 
novel  position,  a  handsome  young  lady,  who  was  try- 
ing the  backward  skating,  endeavored  to  skate  over 
me — a  feat  frequently  attempted  without  success — and 
the  result  was,  she  violently  took  a  seat  upon  my  sto- 
mach and  jobbed  one  of  her  elbows  in  my  eye.  She 
struggled  up  and  said,  "0,  excuse  me!     Did  I  hurt 

"  0,  no ;  not  at  all !"  I  replied,  although  she  had 
nearly  knocked  the  breath  out  of  me. 

"I  am  glad  of  it,"  she  said,  skating  away. 

I  recovered  my  crutch  and  cane,  and  arose,  wonder- 
ing whether  she  meant  that  she  was  glad  she  hadn't 
hurt  me  or  glad  she  had  fallen  on  me.  I  didnt  feel 
glad  about  any  thing. 


smith's  experience  on  a  skate.  171 

This  was  my  first  skating  adventure,  on  a  crutch ; 
but  I  have  skated  many  times  since.  So,  you  see, 
tint  after  all,  the  loss  of  a  limb  does  not  necessarily 
deprive  a  man  of  such  little  enjoyments.  Energy, 
will  and  self-confidence  will  work  wonders.  What  I 
want  to  do,  I  do.  I  have  swam  in  the  Schuylkill, 
Delaware,  Monongahela,  Ohio  and  Mississippi  rivers, 
and  in  all  the  lakes ;  skated  hundreds  of  miles ;  ridden 
hundreds  of  miles  on  horseback ;  walked  hundreds  of 
miles— all  with  one  leg.  There  are  only  two  things 
I  can't  do,  which  another  man  can.  One  is  to  run; 
the  other  is  to  sit  cross-legged.  I  do  not  say  this  to 
boast ;  for  John  Smith  is  modest.  I  merely  mention 
these  facts,  that  the  public  may  know  what  a  one- 
legged  man  can  do,  and  that  he's  »■  a  man  for  a'  that." 


172  JOHN    SMITH    ON   A   CRUTCH. 


CHAPTER     XXIV. 

Oyer   the    Mountains. 

AS  Spring  approached,  I  resolved  to  take  a 
western  tour ;  and  with  that  view  left  Philadel- 
phia in  February.  For  the  sake  of  variety, 
having  frequently  traveled  through  Pennsylvania,  I 
concluded  to  go  to  Pittsburg  via  Baltimore,  Mary- 
land;  Fairmont,  in  Western  Virginia;  and  Union- 
town,  Western  Pennsylvania — certainly  a  circuitous 
route.  I  desired  to  visit  some  friends  in  south- 
western Pennsylvania,  however,  and  it  was  not  much 
out  of  my  way,  after  all,  to  take  the  Philadelphia  and 
Wilmington,  and  Baltimore  and  Ohio  Railroads. 

One  very  cold  day,  I  went  from  Philadelphia  to 
Baltimore,  and  at  ten  o'clock  that  night  left  the  latter 
place  on  the  express  train  that  was  to  run  through  to 
Wheeling — intending  myself  to  get  off  at  Fairmont. 

On  this  occasion,  just  after  taking  a  seat  in  the  car, 
a  gentleman  sat  down  by  me,  and  after  regarding  my 
countenance  attentively  for  a  moment,  said: 

"Pardon  me:  isn't  your  name  Smith?" 

I  pardoned  him,  as  desired,  and  told  him  it  was. 

"  First  name  John  ?" 

There  was  no  denying  it,  and  I  replied  in  the  affir- 
mative. 


OVER  THE    MOUNTAINS.  173 

"  Delighted  to  meet  you !"  he  exclaimed,  as  we  shook 
hands  cordially.     "  When  did  you  leave  Nashville  ?" 
N   "  I  never  left  it,"  was  my  response.     "I  was  never 
there." 

"No?  Then  excuse  me:  you  cannot  be  the  gentle- 
man I  supposed  you,  although  your  appearance  and 
name  strikingly  correspond  with  those  of  a  person  I 
knew  in  Nashville  a  year  ago — especially  the  name. 
He  had  also  lost  a  leg,  as  you  have." 

11 A  remarkable  coincidence,"  said  I.  "  In  the  course 
of  my  own  travels,  I  have  met  with  a  great  many  of 
me — in  name." 

My  fellow-traveler  was  an  agreeable  and  good- 
humored  gentleman,  and  I  related  to  him  the  follow- 
ing anecdote  of  Doctor  B.  Frank  Palmer,  of  Phila- 
delphia, the  great  manufacturer  of  artificial  limbs. 
Eeceiving  an  order  for  a  leg  from  plain  John  Smith 
one  day,  and  being  in  a  merry  mood,  the  Doctor  sat 
down  and  answered  John's  letter  thus : 

"  Look  here  !  What  do  you  mean  ?  I  have  already 
furnished  you  with  five  hundred  of  my  patent  limbs, 
and  I  don't  think  the  Government  allows  you  any 
more.  However,  I'll  send  this  one  yet.  and  if  you 
continue  so  extravagant  in  the  use  of  patent  legs,  I 
advise  yon  to  set  up  a  manufactory  for  your  own  ac- 
commodation."    *     *     * 

The  Doctor,  who  has  manufactured  thousands  of  ar- 
tificial limbs  for  mutilated  soldiers,  once  jocosely  re- 
marked to  the  writer  that  he  found,  by  referring  to 
his  books,  that  John  Smith  had  been  literally  hacked 
to  pieces  during  the  war.  He  had  had  his  right  hand 
cut  off;  his  left  hand ;  his  right  arm  below  the  elbow  ; 
his  left  arm  below  the  elbow ;  his  right  arm  above 


174  JOHN    SMITH   ON"   A   CRUTCH. 

the  elbow;  his  left  arm  above  the  elbow;  his  right 
arm  at  shoulder-joint,  with  skin-flap;  his  left  arm  at 
shoulder-joint,  with  skin-flap ;  his  right  toes;  his  left 
toes ;  his  right  foot ;  his  left  foot ;  his  right  leg  below 
the  knee;  his  left  leg  below  the  knee;  his  right  leg 
above  the  knee;  his  left  leg  above  the  knee;  both 
hands;  both  arms  below  the  elbow ;  both  arms  above 
the  elbow;  both  feet;  both  legs  below  the  knee;  both 
legs  above  the  knee  ;  the  right  arm  and  left  leg ;  the 
fight  arm  and  right  leg;  the  right  arm  and  both  legs; 
the  left  arm  and  right  leg;  the  left  arm  and  left  leg; 
the  left  arm  and  both  legs ;  both  arms  and  both  legs ; 
et  cetera.  All  that  can  remain  of  him  now,  it  might 
well  be  inferred,  is  about  the  size  and  shape  of  a  sack 
of  wheat,  though  far  less  useful  to  himself  and  the 
world. 

The  number  of  plain  John  Smiths  on  the  Doctor's 
book  is  quite  astounding,  to  say  nothing  of  the  innu- 
merable John  A.,  John  B.,  John  C,  John  D.,  John  E., 
John  F.,  John  Gr.,  John  H.,  John  I.,  John  J.,  John  K., 
John  L.,  John  M.,  John  N.,  John  0.,  John  P.,  John 
Q.,  John  B.,  John  S.,  John  T.,  John  IT.,  John  V.,  John 
W.,  John  X.,  John  Y.,  and  John  Z.,  Smiths  ! 

Things  "went  on  very  finely  through  the  night  of 
my  journey  over  the  snow-covered  mountains  of  Vir- 
ginia, and  in  the  morning  the  train  stopped  at  Cum- 
berland, on  the  Potomac,  where  the  passengers  took 
brenkf  ist.  Then  we  thundered  on  again  among  the 
frosted  hills.  Within  ten  miles  of  Grafton,  Western 
Virginia,  the  wheels  of  the  forward  truck  of  the  car  I 
was  in,  jumped  off  the  track,  and  went  bouncing  along 
on  the  ties  beside  the  iron  rails,  in  a  way  calculated  to 


OVER  THE    MOUNTAINS.  175 

startle  the  timid.  I  sprang  from  my  seat,  seized  the 
bell-cord,  and  gave  it  a  vigorous  pull ;  but  although  I 
surely  made  the  engine-bell  ring,  I  could  see  no  im- 
mediate diminution  in  the  speed  of  the  train. 

I  knew  that  this  state  of  things  could  not  last  long 
before  the  car  should  break  to  pieces.  The  stove  was 
soon  shaken  from  its  moorings,  and  fell  over,  scatter- 
ing the  fire  about  and  filling  the  car  with  smoke  and 
dust ;  several  of  the  seats  were  also  shaken  loose,  a 
deliberate  crashing  was  heard ;  and,  glancing  around 
among  the  passengers,  I  saw  as  delicious  a  collection 
of  pale  faces  as  I  had  ever  seen.  The  men  all  sprang 
to  their  feet,  the  women  screamed,  and  some  raised 
their  windows,  as  though  to  squeeze  through  and  drop 
out.  I  raised  my  window  and  thrust  my  arm  out,  so 
that  I  might  thus  clins:  to  the  side  of  the  car,  in  case 
the  floor  should  be  shattered  and  torn  out,  as  it  must 
soon  have  been  if  the  train  had  not  been  checked. 

At  last,  the  welcome  sound  of  the  whistle  was  heard, 
the  brakes  were  applied  and  the  speed  of  the  train 
began  to  slacken.  Just  then,  the  axles  of  the  front 
truck  broke,  the  frame  smashed  up,  and  the  floor  of 
the  car  began  to  give  way.  With  screams  of  horror 
the  passengers  all  rushed  to  the  rear  end  of  the  car ; 
but  in  another  moment,  before  any  further  damage 
was  done  or  any  one  hurt,  the  train  came  to  a  full 
stop.  Then  the  passengers  all  rushed  out  as  quickly 
as  possible,  as  though  there  were  still  danger  within, 
and  some  of  them  got  their  ribs  strained,  squeezing 
through  the  door.  I  walked  out  and  examined  the 
wreck.  Up  to  this  time,  I  had  not  felt  any  trepida- 
tion ;  but  now,  when  it  was  all  over,  and  I  realized 


176  JOHN   SMITH   ON   A   CRUTCH. 

what  terrible  danger  we  had  passed  through,  I  could 
not  help  trembling.  Had  the  train  proceeded  fifty 
yards  further,  the  car  we  were  in  must  have  been  torn 
to  pieces,  and  it  would  have  been  indeed  a  lucky  pas- 
senger who  would  have  escaped  death  or  severe  injury. 

There  was  one  car  in  the  rear  of  us,  and  as  the 
wrecked  car  could  not  be  moved,  the  two  were  left 
standing,  and  all  the  passengers  crowded  into  the 
three  or  four  cars  in  our  front.  Thus  we  proceeded 
to  Grafton,  where  other  cars  were  added. 

The  Baltimore  and  Ohio  Railroad  is  very  well  con- 
ducted, and  accidents  on  it  are  not  of  frequent  occur- 
rence. It  just  chanced  to  be  my  luck  to  witness  this. 
I  heard  the  conductor  say  that  it  was  the  only  acci- 
dent of  any  kind  that  had  happened  to  his  train  for 
three  years. 

At  Fairmont,  on  the  Monongahela  river,  I  got  off 
the  train,  and  took  the  stage  for  Uniontown,  which  is 
forty-five  miles  from  the  above  place. 

After  spending  a  few  weeks  in  Fayette  county,  I 
went  down  the  Monongahela  river  to  Pittsburg,  intend- 
ing to  remain  there  a  few  days,  and  learn  whether  the 
sun  was  to  be  seen  there  or  not. 


DIFFICULTY  WITH  THE  OWNER  OF  PITTSBURG.     177 


CHAPTER     XXV. 
Difficulty  with  the  Owne^of  Pittsburg. 

T  ARRIVED  in  the  "  Iron  City,"  one  morning,  and 
I  having  registered  my  name  at  an  hotel  on  Grant 
/  street,  I  went  down  to  the  u  Diamond,"  to  see  a 
friend  of  mine  in  a  wholesale  grocery  there.  Having 
had  a  talk  with  him  and  promised  to  call  again  before 
leaving  the  city,  I  bade  him  good  morning;  and,  in  a 
quiet,  modest,  unassuming  manner,  took  my  way  up 
Diamond  alley,  toward  Grant  street,  intending  to 
return  to  my  hotel  As  I  crossed  Wood  street,  I 
observed  a  considerable  crowd  collected  about  the 
corner  of  that  street  and  Diamond  alley,  and  discov- 
ered that  there  was  a  fire  in  the  vicinity,  and  that  the 
house  and  goods  of  Openheimer  k  Co.,  were  feeding 
the  flames.  A  steamer  was  puffing  away  as  usual,  to 
try  which  could  damage  and  destroy  the  most  goods, 
water  or  fire.  [This  is  a  question  which  has  never 
been  satisfactorily  decided.] 

Feeling  no  curiosity  to  see  the  fire,  I  crossed  Wood 
streer,  passed  through  the  crowd,  and  continued  up 
Diamond  alley.  I  had  not  walked  far,  and  was  about 
clear  of  the  crowd,  when  an  insolent  voice  called  out 
near  me: 

"Get  out  of  the  way,  you!     Do  you  hear?     I'm 
12 


178  JOIIN    SMITH    ON   A   CRUTCH. 

Chief  of  Police,  and  am  here  to  keep  the  crowd  aw 
And  immediately,   before  I   had  time  to  look   up,  a 
hand  was  laid  violently  on  my  shoulder,  and  I  was 
nearly  snatched  from  my  foot. 

Now,  fancying  that  I  was  a  "free  white  male1' 
citizen  of  the  United  States,  "  of  the  age  of  twenty- 
one  years  and  upwards,"  I  was  quite  otherwise  than 
delighted  with  this  extraordinary  treatment  at  the 
hands  of  the  arrogant  chief  of  villains;  and  turning 
upon  him,  and  verbally  apprising  him  of  the  fact  that 
he  was  a  "  scoundrel,"  I  was  about  to  "belt"  him 
"over  the  ear"  with  my  cane,  when  a  quiet  gentleman 
of  prepossessing  appearance,  walked  up  to  me,  re- 
strained me  in  a  friendly  manner,  and  said  : 

"Come,  my  friend,  I  will  see  you  righted  for  this. 
He  has  treated  you  shamefully.  I  suppose  you  have 
been  a  soldier ;  I  have,  too.  I  am  General  P****#* 
I  am  also  a  lawyer.     Come  with  me." 

"Thank  you,"  I  said. 

"It  was  an  unprovoked  assault,"  he  pursued,  as  we 
walked  up  Diamond  alley.  "That  man  is  Bob. 
H  *  *  *  *,  Chief  of  the  Police.  He  is  a  coarse,  igno- 
rant, insolent,  overbearing  man.  He  insults  every  one 
that  comes  in  his  way,  if  he  happens  to  be  a  little  out 
of  humor.     You  do  not  live  here?" 

"  No,  I  live  in  Philadelphia.  I  thank  you  for  your 
kindness.  If  you  will  tell  me  where  to  find  an  alder- 
man, I  will  have  this  fellow's  case  attended  to." 

"Go  to  Alderman  B  ****  *"  said  he;  and  he 
directed  me  where  to  find  it.  "  I  will  be  a  witness,  if 
necessary.  Prefer  a  charge  of  assault  and  battery 
against  Eobert  H  *  *  *  *   Chief  of  Police,  and  you 


DIFFICULTY  WITH  THE  OWNER  OF  PITTSBURG.     179 

will  find  Mr.  B  *****  a  man  who  will  do  you  jus- 
tice." 

11  Thank  you ;  I  will  go  at  once." 

And  I  went  to  the  office  of  Alderman  B  *  *  *  *  * 
who  did  not  chance  to  be  any  bosom  friend  of  the 
Chief. 

"Alderman,"  said  T,  "my  name  is  John  Smith,  and 
I  reside  in  Philadelphia.  I  come  before  you  to  prefer 
against  one  Robert  II  *  *  *  * — a  fellow  calling  him- 
self Chief  of  Police — a  charge  of  assault  and  battery." 

"  What !  Not  assault  and  battery  on  you — a  crip- 
ple!" 

"Yes,  sir,  sad  as  the  case  is,  it  is  true.  I  charge 
him  with  assault  and  battery.  Please  take  my  deposi- 
tion. I  have  other  witnesses.  General  P  *  *  *  *  *  * 
is  one  of  them.     He  saw  it." 

11  Ah !     He  was  present  ?" 

"  Yes,  sir." 

I  was  then  sworn  to  tell  "the  truth,  the  whole 
truth,  and  nothing  but  the  truth;"  and  I  then  made 
my  statement — "in  accordance  with  the  facts" 

"  Come  to-morrow  afternoon  at  four  o'clock,"  said 
the  Alderman.  "  I  will  have  him  here  to  answer  at 
that  time." 

"I  will.     Thank  you." 

Next  day  I  was  at  the  Alderman's  "  on  time."  I 
had  not  been  there  long  before  Robert  H  *  *  *  * 
stepped  in.  The  Alderman  had  just  finished  making 
out  a  commitment  for  a  lady,  who  had  struck  another 
in  the  face  eight  times  with  a  broomstick  for  doubt- 
ing her  word,  and  saying  so,  pointedly  ;  and  he  was 
now  ready  to  attend  to  our  case. 


180  JOHN"   SMITH    ON   A    CRUTCH. 

"Alderman,"  said  Chief  Kobert,  with  his  usual 
arrogant  air,  "  I  want  to  get  this  trifling  affair  delayed 
for  a  week,  as  all  my  witnesses  are  out  of  town.  I 
can't  attend  to  it  before  next  Friday.  That  will  be 
just  a  week  from  to-day." 

"Alderman,"  I  put  in,  rising  from  my  chair,  "I 
respectfully  object  to  any  such  delay.  I  am  traveling, 
and  it  is  not  consistent  with  my  interests  to  remain  in 
the  city  beyond  a  day  or  two:  and  the prisoner  knows 
it." 

On  my  styling  the  defendant  the  prisoner,  he 
scowled  on  me  like  a  very  demon,  and  I  felt  that  it 
wouldn't  have  been  pleasant  to  have  had  my  life  in 
his  exclusive  keeping,  just  then. 

"Alderman,"  he  said,  fairly  choking  with  malig- 
nant anger,  "  it  will  be  impossible  to  get  my  witnesses 
soon,  and  you  must  give  me  a  show." 

11  It  is  singular,"  I  urged,  addressing  the  Alderman, 
"  that  I,  who  am  a  comparative  stranger  here,  can  find 
and  produce  my  witnesses  so  much  sooner  than  the 
defendant,  who  is  an  official  here,  and  ought  to  be 
well  acquainted.  I  most  earnestly  object  to  any  such 
delay,  as  it  would  be  scarcely  just  to  detain  me  here, 
on  expense,  especially  when  business  calls  me  away 
soon." 

"  Probably,"  insinuated  the  Chief,  "the  gentleman's 
business  is  not  so  urgent — if  he  is  a  gentleman." 

"Mr.  K  *  *  *  *,"  said  the  Alderman,  who  was  too 
honest  to  allow  any  one  to  be  insulted  in  his  office, 
" tte  plaintiff  appear*  to  be  a  gentleman.  However, 
it  is  not  to  be  discussed  here  whether  he  is  or  not. 
That  is  not  to  the  point." 


DIFFICULTY  WITH  THE  OWNER  OF  PITTSBURG.    181 

"  Mr.  Alderman,"  I  remarked,  calmly,  "  if  our 
respective  behavior  here  were  taken  as  evidence,  I 
think  I  could  be  proved  quite  as  much  of  a  gentleman 
as  the  defendant." 

"  We'll  see  about  that  by  the  time  I  get  my  wit- 
nesses," said  Chief  Robert.  "  Tve  been  keeping  an 
eye  on  him  since  he  came  to  the  city,     /know " 

"Mr.  H  *  *  *  *,''  interrupted  the  Alderman,  "I 
cannot,  and  will  not,  allow  any  such  talk  in  my  office  1 
For  you,  Chief  of  Police,  to  speak  thus,  is  to  insinuate 
that  Mr.  Smith  is  a  suspicious  character.  There  is 
nothing  in  his  appearance  to  warrant  such  an  insinua- 
tion. But  let  me  not  talk  of  that.  Let  us  proceed 
with  the  case.  This  is  Friday :  I  will  postpone  the 
hearing  only  till  Monday.  I  think  that  will  be  deal- 
ing fairly  by  both." 

''*  It  will  be  no  such  thing !"  vociferated  the  irate 
official.  "You  are  not  giving  me  a  fair  show !  You 
are  showing  partiality  toward " 

Mr.  H  *  *  *  *  !"  interrupted  the  Alderman,  peremp- 
torily ;  "  not  another  such  word  in  my  office !  I  shall 


But  I'll  be- 


"  Do  you  hear  ?  Not  another  word  !  I  shall  send 
the  case  right  down  to  court !  You  must  go  there 
and  answer  to  the  charge." 

"  Send  it !  and  be " 

Boiling  over  with  rage,  the  Chief  had  seized  his 
hat,  bolted  from  the  office,  banged  the  door  after  him, 
and  thus  prevented  me  from  hearing  the  conclusiou 
of  his  invective. 

"The  case  will  to  tried  in  court,"  said  the  Aldei-, 


182  JOHN    SMITH   ON   A   CRUTCH. 

man,  to  me.  "Be  at  the  court-bouse  on  Monday, 
and  give  your  evidence  before  the  Grand  Jury.  By 
Tuesday,  then,  it  may  be  tried." 

"I  will;  thank  you.'' 

Monday  came,  and  I  gave  my  evidence  before  the 
Grand  Jury,  making  the  case  against  II  *  *  *  *  as 
strong  as  I  could,  without  swerving  from  "the  truth, 
the  whole  truth,  and  nothing  but  the  truth :  s'help — " 
etc. 

A  "bill''  was  "found"  against  him,  in  the  brief 
space  of  sixty  seconds;  and  early  next  morning  the 
case  came  up  before  the  "  Criminal  Court."  It  was  such 
a  plain  case  against  the  poor  cuss,  that  his  counsel 
advised  him  to  plead  guilty ;  which  he  did.  He  was 
then  severely  reprimanded  by  the  Judge,  in  a  long 
speech,  in  which  he  urged  upon  him  the  importance 
of  being  careful  about  laying  hands  on  an  inoffensive 
person,  without  a  warrant,  and  mildly  sentenced  him 
to  pay  a  fine  of  twenty-five  dollars,  and  the  costs; 
making  in  all,  the  handsome  little  sum  of  seventy- 
three  dollars  and  eighty-two  cents:  and  what  was  still 
more  aggravating  and  humiliating  to  the  dre:id  (?) 
Chief,  he  was  immediately  taken  into  custody,  by  two 
tipstaves,  and  escorted  into  the  sheriff's  office,  where 
he  had  to  pay  the  fine  and  costs,  "on  sight." 

The  affair  cost  me  nothing.  In  fact,  I  gained  by 
it ;  for  I  was  about  that  time  commencing  to  write  a 
work  of  fiction,  (since  published),  and  I  had  been  for 
several  days  at  a  loss  for  some  one  to  represent  the 
villainous  character.  This  let  me  out,  nicely.  I 
named  my  '  villain  "  Robert  II  *  *  *  *  gave  an  exact 
description  of  him,  went  on  swimmingly  with  my 


DIFFICULTY  WITH  THE  OWNER  OF  PITTSBURG.   183 

novel,  and,  at  the  conclusion,  brought  hirn  to  a  terri- 
ble and  tragic  death.*1* 

*  The  White  Rocks;  Or,  the  Robbers  of  i lie  Monongahela. 
V    thrilling  story  of  Outlaw  Life  in  Western   Pennsylvania. 
By  A.  F.  Hill,  author  of  "  Our  Boys,"  etc.,  etc.     12mo.     Cloth, 
price  $1.75. 

(John  E.  Potter  &  Co.,  publishers,  Philadelphia.) 


■  • 


184  JOHN   SMITH    ON    A    CRUTCH. 


CHAPTER     XXVI 

Peculiarities   of   Travelers. 

"VTEXT  morning  I  took  an  early  train  for  Wheel- 
I  N    ing,  which  city  I  desired  to  visit  on  my  west- 
/        ward  way. 

On  this  occasion,  about  twelve  minutes  before  the 
train  started,  two  men  came  in,  and,  desiring  to  sit 
together  and  finding  no  seat  wholly  vacant,  one  of 
them  had  the  incredible,  the  unparalleled,  the  unex- 
ampled, the  unheard-of  audacity  to  ask  me  to  move 
and  sit  with  another  person — a  thing  I  have  refused 
to  do  even  to  accommodate  a  lady.  It  was  not  yet 
quite  light  in  the  car,  as  the  sun  was  not  up,  and  I 
pointed  to  my  crutch,  that  stood  leaning  against  the 
back  of  the  seat  in  front  of  me,  and  stated  that  I  had 
been  badly  shot  in  the  knee  the  previous  night,  in 
a  saloon  difficulty,  and  that  it  was  impossible  for  me 
to  move  with  any  sort  of  comfort  or  ease.  Moreover, 
I  observed,  that  my  uncle  was  to  accompany  me  on 
my  journey,  to  take  care  of  me,  that  he  would  of 
course  occupy  the  seat  with  me,  and  that  he  had  just 
gone  to  a  neighboring  saloon  to  get  me  a  glass  of  ale 
and  hand  it  in  at  the  window.  Otherwise,  I  said,  I 
should  accommodate  them  by  moving  to  any  part  of 
the  «ar  they  might  desire,  and  take  pleasure  in  it. 


PECULIARITIES    OF   TRAVELERS.  185 

Taking  all  I  said  for  the  truth, — and  thus  making  a 
wholesale  mistake — they  turned  and  went  to  the  rear 
end  of  the  car,  where  they  urgently  requested  a  re- 
spectable-looking negro  passenger  to  get  up  and  let 
them  have  his  seat.  But  he  knew  his  rights,  and, 
knowing,  durst  maintain;  and  he  maintained  them 
after  this  manner : 

"  Guess  not." 

"  O,  come,  now,"  argued  one  of  the  two  passengers ; 
"  you  might  as  well.     You'll  be  just  as  comfortable 


"Well,  now,  I  guess  I  won't  leab  dis  yer,  by 
golly!" 

"  You  might  have  to,"  suggested  one  of  the  Cauca- 
sians. 

"  Hab  to  ?     Like  to  see  de  man " 

"  For  half-a-cent  I'd  move  you  !" 

The  darkey  was  now  very  much  "riled,"  and  be- 
ing, besides,  a  little  drunk,  and  naturally  ill-natured 
and  habitually  profane  in  his  language,  he  railed 
out  thus: 

"  No,  I'll  be  (profanity)  if  you  does !  (Profanity) 
my  heart,  if  I  jis'  didn'  fight  fur  dis  (profanity) 
country,  and  I'll  be  (profanity,  profanity,  profanitied) 
if  I  ain't  as  good  as  any  oder  (profanity)  man !  I 
know  what  my  rights  is  !  I  does!  I'll  be  (profanity, 
profanitied)  if  I  don't !  (Profanity,  profanity,  profan- 
ity, profanity) " 

"  Look  here !"  exclaimed  the  conductor,  who  had 
just  entered  the  car,  and  was  adjusting  the  bell-cord  ; 
"what  the  (here  he  made  a  concise  and  pointed 
allusion  to.  a  dark,  personage  who  wears  a  tail  with. a 


186  JOHN    SMITH    ON  A   CRUTCH. 

cl  rt  on  the  end  of  it,  and  carries  off  bad  boys  that 
won't  mind  their  mothers  an  I  who  run  off  and  piny 
base  ball  when  sent  to  school)  do  you  mean?  What 
arc  yon   cursing  that  way  for?     Don't  you  see  there 

are  ladies  in  the  car " 

11  Dey  wants  my  seat,  and " 


"Well,  they  havn't  got  it,  have  they  ?  You  shall 
keep  your  seat,  if  you  want  to.  No  one  is  going  to 
take  it  from  you !  Now,  another  word  out  of  your 
black  head,  and  I'll  split  it  for  you,  and  throw  it  out 
of  the  window,  a  piece  at  a  time  !" 

The  two  troublesome  travelers  had,  meantime, 
located  themselves  in  separate  seats,  as  near  each 
other  as  possible;  the  darkey  said  no  more,  and  quiet 
reigned  for  a  moment  or  so. 

Glancing  out  at  my  window,  which  I  had  raised,  I 
presently  saw  two  Irishmen — both  drunk — approach- 
ing the  car;  and  one  of  them  was  carrying  a  valise,  a 
fiddle,  a  hat-box,  a  saw,  a  side  of  leather,  an  overcoat 
and  an  extra  pair  of  boots.  He  was  evidently  going 
on  a  journey;  but  the  other  was  in  his  shirt-sleeves, 
and  had  only  accompanied  him  to  the  train  to  see 
him  off. 

11  Good-by,  Mike,"  said  he  in  his  shirt-sleeves. 
"  Take  gude  care  o'  yer-sel." 

"I'll  do  that,  Zhammie,"  said  the  traveler,  who 
was  the  drunkest  of  the  two.  "  When'll'seeyez'gin, 
m'by  ?" 

"I'll  mate  ye'n  Whalin',  Mike.  Steek  till  the 
cause,  me  boy.  Don't  forgit  the  Fanians  an'  yer 
counthry  !" 

By  this  time,  a  number  of  the  passengers  who  sat 


PECULIARITIES    OF   TRAVELERS.  187 

on  the  same  side  of  the  car  with  me  had  raised  their 
windows,  and  were  now  listening  to  this  dialogue, 
much  amused.  The  conversation  was  carried  on  in 
loud,  harsh  tones. 

"F'rgit  nV  counthry  an'  th-  cause?  Och !  I  shud 
thaink  naught,"  said  the  Milesian  traveler,  who  was 
now  about  to  ascend  the  steps  to  the  platform  of  the 
car  I  was  in. 

He  paused  a  moment,  before  blundering  up,  and 
then  struck  up  a  patriotic  Fenian  song,  the  first  verse 
of  which  was  something  like  this: 

"  Och  !  Kra  !  Kri  mo  fcreeh  !  raee  barry  braugh, 

Augh  quih-queeh.  McQuairy,  0  ! 
Grab  me  Kreh  !  Grab  me  Kree  !  Ahkushlee  !  Hurrah! 

Mike  graughin,  Och  borry  bro !" 

"  Good  me  b'y !"  exclaimed  his  friend,  grasping  his 
hand.  "Wull  done,  that!  Now,  good-by,  Mike, 
Tak  care  o'  yer-sel !" 

"Good-by,  till  ye,  Zhammie.  God  be  good  till 
ye!" 

After  shaking  hands  cordially,  they  parted.  He 
in  his  shirt-sleeves,  James,  by  name,  walked  away, 
with  some  sadness  naturally  engendered  by  the  part- 
ing ;  while  Michael  entered  the  car  and  took  a  seat 
by  the  darkey — for  all  the  rest  were  entirely  occupied 
by  this  time — his  saw,  as  he  sat  down,  accidentally 
grazing  the  darkey's  cheek,  and  corning  within  half- 
an-inch  of  sawing  one  of  his  white  eyes  out. 

11  'Scuse  me,  dairlint,"  said  Mike  ;  and  he  deposited 
his  luggage  down  among  both  their  feet,  threw  him- 
self carelessly  back  in  his  seat,  with  his  cheek  resting 


188  JOHN    SMITH    ON    A    CRUTCH. 

on   his   dusky  companion's  shoulder,  and  soon   fell 
asleep. 

The  pleasant  (?)  time  the  conductor  had  waking 
him,  when  he  came  round  for  his  ticket,  might  be 
described  with  excellent  effect,  by  a  professional 
humorist ;  but  let  the  reader  picture   it  in  his  iin- 


189 


CHAPTER    XXVII. 

M.cCulloch's    Leap. 

>BOUT  eleven  o'clock,  A.  M.,  the  train  arrived  at 
the  little  village  of  Bridgeport,  opposite  Wheel- 
ing, where  an  omnibus  was  in  waiting  to  carry 
over  the  river  all  passengers  destined  for  the  city. 
Between  Bridgeport  and  Wheeling  is  an  island,  whose 
name  I  forget,  and  there  are  two  bridges  required 
for  communication  between  the  two  places.  That  on 
the  Wheeling  side  is  a  very  excellent  suspension 
bridge,  ninety  or  a  hundred  feet  above  the  water, 
with  a  span  of  one  thousand  feet.  That  on  the 
Bridgeport  side  is  a  substantial  wooden  bridge  with 
five  or  six  piers.  The  steamboat  channel  is,  as  may 
naturally  be  supposed,  on  the  Wheeling  side  of  the 
island. 

I  and  my  trunk  took  passage  on  the  omnibus,  and 
I  had  reason  to  be  pleased  with  the  gentlemanly  de- 
meanor of  the  conductor,  and  with  his  moderate 
charges. 

The  first  object  of  interest  near  Wheeling  that  I 
desired  to  visit,  was  the  steep  declivity  down  which 
the  pioneer  McCulloch  made  his  fearful  plunge  on 
horseback,  when  pursued  by  the  Indians.  This,  if 
my  memory  serves  me  correctly,  happened  in  1790 


190  JOHN   SMITH   ON  A   CRUTCH. 

It  was  on  a  beautiful  day,  late  in  March,  that  I 
arrived  in  Wheeling;  and,  having  taken  dinner  at  a 
comfortable  and  tidy  hotel,  I  walked  into  the  sitting- 
room  where  several  gentlemen  were  seated  poring 
over  the  newspapers.  I  looked  around  me  before 
venturing  to  speak  to  any  one,  and  was  not  long  in 
making  up  my  mind  as  to  which  to  address  my  in- 
quiries to.     • 

This  was  a  man  of  forty-five  or  fifty  years,  who  was 
in  the  act  of  folding  up  a  paper  he  had  been  reading, 
and  whom  I  judged  to  be  a  resident  of  Wheeling. 
Besides,  his  countenance  was  clearly  the  index  of  a 
good  mind,  and  a  noble  and  congenial  heart. 

As  I  afterward  learned,  his  name  was  Charles  Cra- 
craft — he  was  familiarly  styled  Charlie — an  intelligent, 
well-known  and  much  respected  citizen  of  Wheeling. 
He  and  I  became  the  warmest  friends  during  the  brief 
week  that  I  remained  in  Wheeling,  and  his  society 
delighted  me.  He  was  one  of  those  "gems"  of  which 
Gray  speaks  in  his  ''Elegy  in  a  Country  Churchyard." 
A  man  better  versed  in  history  and  general  literature 
I  have  seldom  met.  Few  notable  events  ever  hap- 
pened in  the  world  that  Charlie  could  not  tell  all 
about.  Why  he  had  never  made  his  mark  in  the 
world,  I  could  not  tell ;  but  I  felt  sure  he  might  have 
done  so.  In  addition  to  his  love  of  reading,  and  a 
good  memory,  I  found  him  possessed  of  most  excellent 
judgment,  strong  reasoning  powers,  an  impressive 
address  liberality  of  views  and  an  admirable  know- 
ledge of  language  and  composition.  With  all  his 
gifts — gifts  that  would  enable  a  man  to  shine  any- 
where— he  was  not  known  beyond  his  native  city; 


Mcculloch's  leap.  191 

and  that  is  why  I  regard  him  as  one  of  those  "gems" 
which  Gray  says  are  "born  to  blush  unseen." 

Well,  it  was  to  Charlie  Cracraft  that  I  addressed 
my  inquiries  regarding  the  place  where  McCulloch, 
under  pressing  circumstances,  executed  his  celebrated 
equestrian  feat. 

u  It  is  barely  half  a-mile  distant,"  said  Charlie. 
"Are  you  going  to  see  it?" 

"Yes,  by  all  means,"  I  replied. 

"It  is  just  outside  the  city.  You  go  to  the  upper 
end  of  the  city,  and — however,  I  was  just  thinking 
of  taking  a  walk  myself,  and  I 'will  accompany  you,  if 
you  desire." 

11 1  shall  be  pleased  with  your  company,"  said  I, 
"  and  I  thank  you." 

We  were  friends  from  that  moment.  Charlie 
arose,  and  we  left  the  hotel  and  walked  up  the  street. 
Emerging  from  the  upper  end  of  the  city  we  followed 
a  pike  for  a  few  hundred  yards,  which  led  us  to  a 
considerable  elevation,  where  I  found^  laid  before  me 
about  as  grand  a  scene  as  I  ever  beheld. 

"  Here,"  said  Charlie,  "  is  where  McCulloch  rode 
down."  We  were  standing  with  our  faces  toward  the 
east;  behind  us,  deep  among  the  tall  hills,  flowed  the 
Ohio  river,  and  before  us  was  a  valley  of  great  depth, 
through  which  W heeling  creek  wound  its  way.  This 
stream  flowed  directly  toward  the  Ohio  river,  till  it 
reached  the  base  of  the  declivity  immediately  beneath 
us ;  then  turning  about,  guarded  away  from  the  river, 
as  it  were,  by  the  long,  steep,  intervening  ridge,  it 
flowed  clear  around  Wheeling,  and  emptied  into  the 
river  below.     That  portion  of  the  creek  which  we 


192  JOHN   SMITH    ON   A   CRUTCH. 

could  see,  hemmed  in  by  a  semicircular  range  of 
hills  on  its  right  side,  formed  a  path  similar  in  shape 
to  a  horse-shoe;  only  its  principal  curve  was  more 
abrupt. 

It  was  at  this  abrupt  curve  that  the  daring  McCul- 
loch  plunged  down  the  declivity.  He  had  been  pur- 
sued from  a  northerly  direction,  by  the  Indians,  and 
intended  to  gallop  along  the  verge  of  the  descent,  and 
turn  toward  the  east,  as  the  creek  turned  far  below. 
But  just  here  he  found  himself  intercepted  by  another 
band  of  savages,  and  retreat  in  that  direction  cut  off. 
Behind  him  lay  the  Ohio  river,  three  hundred  feet 
below,  on  either  hand  was  a  horde  of  howling  blood- 
thirsty savages,  and  before  him  was  a  steep  descent 
of  several  hundred  feet,  whose  face  was  interrupted 
by  several  perpendicular  ledges  of  rock ;  and,  in  this 
terrible  exigence,  he  clutched  his  reins  tightly,  and 
spurred  his  horse  quickly  over  the  brink  and  down 
the  fearful  declivity.  It  is  not  really  so  steep  as 
some  who  have  read  the  account  suppose,  for  a  line 
drawn  from  the  summit  to  the  base,  where  the  creek 
flows,  would  form  an  angle  with  the  horizon  of  only 
between  forty  and  forty-five  degrees ;  but  at  intervals 
there  are  precipitous  ledges  of  rock,  quite  perpen- 
dicular, of  from  ten  to  twenty  feet  in  height.  That 
the  horse  and  rider  plunged  down  over  them  in  safety, 
seems  little  less  than  a  miracle. 

This  range  of  hills,  or  rather  this  ridge,  is  higher  and 
even  steeper  in  some  places  than  at  the  point  where 
McCulloch  plunged  down.  Charlie  and  I  walked 
along  the  verge  of  the  precipice,  ascending  gradually, 
till  we  came  to  a  point  over  four  hundred  feet  above 


mcculloch's  leap.  193 

the  high-water  mark  of  the  river.  From  this  point, 
we  could  see  over  many  miles  of  Ohio  landscape 
beyond  the  river. 

It  was  at  this  highest  point  that,  a  few  years  ago, 
a  man  named  Wheat,  a  citizen  of  Wheeling,  actually 
drove  over  the  precipice  in  a  two-horse  sleigh.  Two 
other  persons  were  in  the  sleigh  with  him,  riding 
along  the  summit  of  the  ridge,  and  on  his  declaring 
that  he  was  going  to  eclipse  McCulloch,  they  jumped 
out,  and  the  fool  actually  touched  up  his  horses  and 
drove  down  the  precipice.  His  name  was  Wheat,  as 
I  stated ;  but  Charlie  told  me  that  rye  had  more  to  do 
with  it  than  any  one  else. 

Down  tumbled  Wheat,  the  sleigh  and  two  horses ; 
and  only  that  good  luck  that  ever  seems  to  attend 
an  intoxicated  man  could  have  saved  him  from  a 
violent  and  speedy  death.  While  the  sleigh  was 
dashed  to  splinters,  and  both  the  horses  precipitated 
into  Wheeling  creek  and  killed,  Mr.  Wheat  lodged 
among  some  stunted  trees,  about  half-way  down — 
badly  bruised  and  "  stove  up,"  it  is  true,  but  still 
alive  and  in  moderate  spirits.  He  is  still  living,  but 
has  been  a  cripple  ever  since  his  mad  and  daring 
sleigh-ride. 

Charlie  and  I  returned  from  our  pleasant  walk, 
feeling  as  though  we  had  been  acquainted  for  years. 
We  had  considerable  conversation,  on  various  topics, 
and  I  will  nevet  forget  a  remark  I  heard  him  make. 
We  were  speaking  of  religion,  and  I  found  that  he, 
like  myself,  was  a  dissenter  from  the  orthodox  faith. 
Speaking  of  the  doubts  and  perplexities  that  always 
arose,  when  he  thought  on  the  subject,  he  said: 
13 


194  JOHN   SMITH    ON   A   CRUTCH. 

"  If  I  possessed  the  wealth  of  the  whole  world  ;  if 
the  lands,  the  houses,  the  gold,  the  gems,  the  king- 
doms, and  the  thrones  were  mine ;  I  would  gladly 
give  them  all  to  know  the  TRUTH !" 

The  reader  has,  no  doubt,  heard  or  read  of  a  certain 
cave  among  the  rocks  on  Wheeling  creek,  in  which 
an  Indian  once  concealed  himself  with  a  rifle,  and, 
by  imitating  the  voice  of  a  turkey,  decoyed  several 
men  from  the  fort  in  succession,  and  shot  them.  His 
strategem  was  at  last  detected,  however,  and  a  pio- 
neer who  was  as  shrewd  as  he,  went  in  the  night, 
concealed  himself  in  the  neighborhood,  and  in  the 
morning  saw  the  dusky  savage  go  and  ensconce  him- 
self in  his  usual  hiding-place,  and  begin  the  song  of 
the  turkey.  The  pioneer,  who  could  see  his  dark  visage 
among  the  rocks,  took  aim  with  his  rifle,  and  with 
one  shot  silenced  him  forever. 

Charlie  pointed  this  cave  out  to  me,  and  I  went 
the  next  day  and  visited  it.  He  would  have  accom- 
panied me,  but  he  was  subject  to  rheumatism,  and 
was  suffering  considerably  that  day  ;  so  I  went  alone. 
The  cave  is  about  a  mile  from  Wheeling.  I  had  to 
climb  up  the  rocks  fifteen  or  twenty  feet,  in  order  to 
get  into  it,  and  I  sat  there  awhile,  aiming  my  crutch 
at  a  stump  beyond  Wheeling  creek,  and  imagining 
myself  the  cunning  but  unfortunate  Indian  who  per- 
sonated a  turkey  and  got  shot  for  it.  The  cave  is  not 
large — in  fact,  one  cannot  stand  erect ;  but  half-a-dozen 
persons  could  be  stowed  in  it  in  a  reclining  position, 
provided  none  of  them  were  ladies  in  capacious 
crinoline. 

Returning  from  the  cave,  via  McCulloch's  Leap, 


MCCULLOCH'S   LEAP.  195 

it  was  my  lot  to  encounter  one  of  the  greatest  bores 
I  ever  met.  He  was  one  of  those  persons  who,  it  is 
said,  can  "  talk  a  man  to  death."  He  made  me  think 
of  the  celebrated  lines  of  Pope  : 

"No  place  so  sacred  from  such  fops  is  barred, 
Nor  is  Paul's  church  more  safe  than  Paul's  churchyard. 
Nay,  fly  to  altars,  there  they  talk  you  dead, 
And  fools  rush  in  where  angels  fear  to  tread." 

He  lived  in  a  solitary  house,  by  the  creek  at  the 
base  of  the  declivity,  and  he  happened  to  come  out 
just  as  I  was  about  to  make  the  ascent.  He  was  a 
fast  talker,  said  a  great  many  words  in  a  few  seconds, 
and  often  spoke  a  good  many  seconds  at  a  time. 

"  How  do  you  do,  sir  ?  How  do  you  do?"  he  said, 
familiarly.     "  Fine  day." 

<(  Very,"  I  said.     "  Quite  pleasant." 

I  wanted  to  get  back  to  my  hotel,  for  my  stomach 
admonished  me  that  it  was  fully  dinner-time;  and  so, 
I  made  an  attempt  to  pass  on  and  begin  to  climb  the 
hill.  It  was  no  use,  though.  He  commenced  by 
asking  me  if  I  lost  my  leg  in  the  army,  then  went  on 
asking  one  question  after  another — in  such  rapid  suc- 
cession that  I  only  got  each  one  about  half  answered 
■ — till  he  had  asked  three  times  the  number  usually 
proposed.  He  asked  questions  such  as  I  had  never 
thought  of  before,  and  kept  on  so  fast  that  I  fancied 
he  asked  them  merely  for  the  pleasure  of  it,  and  not 
for  the  sake  of  hearing  them  answered.  He  not  only 
asked  me  if  I  was  born  in  this  country,  where  I  was 
brought  up,  what  kind  of  saw-mills  we  had  there, 
and  what  barbers  charged  for  cutting  hair ;  but  also 
desired  to  know  if  I  had  ever  looked  at  the  moon 


196  JOHN  SMITH   ON   A   CRUTCH. 

through  a  telescope,  and  if  I  thought  corn  as  good  a 
diet  for  horses  as  oats.  Every  question  that  any 
mortal  man  could  think  of  in  so  short  a  time,  he  asked 
me.  till  I  finally  felt  that  I  must  either  move  on,  or 
die.  I  moved  on,  in  the  midst  of  the  conversation, 
and  looked  back  over  my  shoulder  now  and  then  to 
answer  questions,  which  he  continued  to  ask. 

"Are  you  going  to  walk  up  the  hill?" 

"Yes." 

"Can  you  do  it?" 

"0,yes." 

"  Aint  you  afraid  you'll  fall  ?" 

"  No." 

I  began  to  ascend  the  acclivity,  and  he  talked  on. 

"  Did  you  ever  go  up  such  a  steep  place  before  ?" 

"Yes,  steeper,"  I  yelled  back,  thinking  of  Bunker 
Hill  Monument. 

"And  didn't  fall?"  he  continued,  as  I  took  another 
labored  stride  onward  and  upward. 

"No." 

"  Wasn't  you  afraid  of  falling  ?" 

"No." 

"You  must  be  plucky." 

As  this  did  not  strictly  demand  any  answer,  I  took 
advantage  of  a  momentary  pause  to  say, 

"  Good  day." 

"  Good But  say?     What  regiment  did  you  say 

you  were  in  ?" 

"  Eighth  Pennsyl " 

"  Did  you  know  a  man  in  that  regiment  by  the 
name  of — " 

I  had  now  ascended  to  the  height  of  seventy-ii ve 


MCCULLOCH'S   LEAP.  197 

or  eighty  feet,  when  I  stopped  on  a  sort  of  shelf,  to 
rest  a  moment,  turned  about  and  said : 

"  What  was  his  name  ?" 

"I  forget — I  was  just  trying  to  think — 0,  yes,  it 
was — let  me  see — was  it — no — was  it — Harbertson  ?" 

''I  knew  none  of  that  name  in  my  regiment,"  I 
yelled  back;  for  the  conversation  now  had  to  be 
carried  on  in  a  loud  voice. 

''  I  don't  think  that  was  the  name,"  said  he.  "Now 
that  I  come  to  think  of  it,  he  was  in  a  New  Jersey 
regiment.     I  used  to  work  with  him,  in " 

"  Well,"  said  I,  facing  the  hill  again  to  continue 
the  ascent,  "  I'll  move  on.     Good " 

11  Wait  a  minute,"  he  interrupted,  coming  up  ten  or 
fifteen  feet  to  where  it  began  to  grow  pretty  steep, 
and  there  stopping.  "  What  did  you  say  your  name 
was." 

11  Smith,"  I  yelled.     "  Good " 


"  I  have  relations  of  that  name  in  Pennsyl " 

"Ah,  well,  good-day,"  and  I  continued  up  the 
ascent. 

"  When  will  you  leave  Wheeling  ?" 

"  I  have  to  leave  on  the  two  o'clock  train,"  I  sin- 
fully replied,  without  pausing  in  the  ascent. 

"  Where  going?" 

"To  Pitt ,  Cleve ,  Cincinnati!"  I  replied, 

scarcely  knowing  what  lie  to  tell. 

"  You'll  have  plenty  of  time,"  he  yelled.  "  It  isn't 
more'n  twelve  now."  And  thus  he  went  on  till  he 
talked  me  clear  to  the  top  of  the  rugged  height. 

"Good " 

"  I  was  going  to  ask  you " 


198  JOHN   SMITH   ON   A   CRUTCH. 

" Day,"  I    madly   yelled,    as   I   reached   tho 


summit,  and  disappeared,  half-fainting,  from  his  view. 
Of  all  the  bores  I  ever  met,  this  man  was  incom- 
parably the  greatest.  If  I  ever  visit  McCulloch's 
Leap  again,  I  will  remain  at  the  summit,  and  not  go 
near  enough  the  verge  for  that  dread  man,  who  lives 
in  the  lone  cottage  far  below,  to  catch  a  glimpse  of 
mel 


CINCINNATI.  199 


CHAPTER     XXVIII. 

Cincinnati. 

TT  was  about  the  first  of  April,  when  the  weather 

was  delightful,  and  the  nights  were  lighted  by  the 
/  full  moon,  that  I  left  Wheeling  for  Cincinnati,  on 
board  the  new  little  steamer  "  Como."  I  had  a  plea- 
sant  voyage  of  two  days  and  two  nights,  and  might 
write  a  good  many  pages  descriptive  of  it ;  but  that's 
old.     Moreover,  it  is  not  John-Smithian. 

As  I  wished  to  remain  in  Cincinnati  for  a  month,  I 
hired  a  lodging-room  for  that  length  of  time,  paying 
the  money  in  advance,  because  it  was  not  perfectly 
clear  that  I  wasn't  a  "  deep-dyed  villain." 

The  landlady,  for  the  sum  of  eighteen  dollars, 
placed  me  in  possession  of  a  neat,  tidy  room,  upstairs, 
and  I  there  wrote  and  slept  for  one  month ;  taking 
my  meals  at  a  neighboring  saloon. 

The  proprietress  of  my  lodging-house,  who  was  a 
German  lady— one  of  the  Germanest  I  ever  saw— ac- 
companied me  to  the  hall-door  as  I  walked  out  to 
have  my  trunk  sent  up.  On  reaching  the  foot  of  the 
stairs  in  the  hall,  I  noticed  a  room  on  the  left-hand 
side,  with  the  door  standing  open,  and,  involuntarily 
glancing  in,  perceived  that  it  was  haudsomely  fur- 
nished. 


200        JOHN  SMITH  ON  A  CRUTCH. 

"  Dat,"  said  the  landlady,  whose  knowledge  of  Eng- 
lish, it  will  be  perceived,  was  very  imperfect,  "is— is 
— two — ah — ah — play-mens — actors,  you  knows.  Dey 
rent  it  from  me.     Dirty-five  tollar  pays." 

"  Quite  reasonable,"  said  I.  "  A  nice  room.  "Where 
do  they  play  ?" 

"  At  de — de  Beaters,  you  knows." 

I  had  naturally  inferred  as  much,  but  pretended  to 
receive  this  as  a  piece  of  extraordinary  information, 
and  said : 

"Ah?   Indeed?" 

"  Yes.  Dey  gets — lots — great  big  much — vat  yoi 
call  'em — vages." 

"  0,  yes.     They  get  good  wages?" 

"Yes,  von  pig  much  tollars." 

I  had  my  trunk  sent  to  my  new  quarters,  then  took 
a  leisurely  stroll  through  the  "  City  of  Pork."  I 
first  called  on  my  friend  Major  J.  P.  Kline,  on  Sixth 
street,  and  before  I  left  him,  he  made  me  promise  to 
accompany  him  to  the  theater  that  night,  stating  that 
Proctor  was  to  play  the  tragedy  of  "  Yirginius,"  at  the 
I-forget-the-name-of-it  Theater.  I  then  took  a  further 
walk,  and  in  a  couple  of  hours  returned  to  my  lodgings 
and  wrote  a  letter  to  an  eastern  paper,  in  which  I  gave 
a  great  deal  of  valuable  information  concerning  Cin- 
cinnati— considering  my  limited  knowledge  of  it. 

I  accompanied  my  friend  to  the  theater  that  even- 
ng,  and  saw  Proctor  play  "  Yirginius."  He  performed 
his  part  well ;  but  there  was  one  actor,  of  lofty 
mien,  who  personated  Icilius  in  the  tragedy,  and 
who  attracted  my  attention  and  won  my  admiration 
more  than  any   other.     He  was  perfectly  majestic. 


CINCINNATI.  201 

I  thought  he  should  have  been  born  a  king,  at  least. 
He  uttered  every  word  with  a  loftiness  and  dignity, 
and  in  clear,  ringing,  impressive,  awe-inspiring  tones, 
that  would  have  graced  an  emperor.  Every  word  he 
uttered  he  seemed  to  feel ;  and  whenever  he  was  on 
the  stage,  I  fancied  I  was  looking  on  the  genuine 
Icilius,  himself,  and  on  those  real  tragic  events  that 
occurred  in  the  days  of  the  Decemviri ;  instead  of  a 
mere  representation  of  them. 

Virginius  was  cheered,  applauded,  encored ;  but 
Icilius  more  than  "  brought  down  the  house."  When 
he  came  out  with  the  eloquent  and  brilliant  passages 
which  it  was  his  office  to  repeat,  the  effect  was  electri- 
cal. The  audience  was  dumb  with  admiration,  and 
seemed  ready  to  rise  up  in  the  air  on  the  wings  of  en- 
thusiasm, bear  Icilius  to  the  skies,  and  have  him  en- 
rolled among  the  gods ! 

That  night,  on  reaching  my  "  apartments  "  on  Plum 
street,  (having  loitered  by  the  way,)  I  observed  that 
the  ground-floor  room  I  mentioned  was  lighted,  and 
that  its  occupants  were  at  home.  As  I  entered  the 
hall  and  closed  the  street-door  behind  me,  I  observed 
that  the  room-door  stood  wide  open ;  and  I  heard  voices 
within.  One  of  them,  who  was  standing  at  the  center 
of  the  room,  adjusting  the  gas-burner,  just  then  vexed- 
iy  exclaimed  to  his  companion  : 

"  Pshaw  !     Gol-darn  it,  Bill !     Where's  me  pipe  ?" 

Wondering  if  a  person  so  harsh-spoken  could  be 
one  of  the  actors  mentioned  by  the  landlady,  I  in- 
voluntarily glanced  in,  as  1  walked  past  the  door 
toward  the  hall-stairs.  The  face  of  the  speaker,  who 
continued  to  growl  about  "  me  pipe,"  was  toward  the 


202  JOHN    SMITH    ON     1   CRUTCH. 

door,  and  the  glare  of  several  gas-burners  shone  full 
upon  his  visage. 

Ye  mythic  gods!  Ye  gods,  Grecian  and  Roman! 
Ye  gods,  from  great  Jupiter  down  to  the  nude  little 
cuss  with  the  bow  and  arrows,  inclusive!  It  was 
Icilius  !  Where  now  his  gallant  bearing — his  majes- 
tic mien — his  glittering  armor — his  proud  helmet — 
his  waving  plume — and  the  burnished  sword  I  had 
seen  him  nourish,  as  though  it  were  a  king's  scepter  ? 
Where  ! !  Where,  too,  was  that  noble  look  of  defi- 
ance with  which  he  had  confronted  Claudius  Appius? 
Where  that  expression  of  more  than  mortal  anguish 
•  that  had  settled  upon  his  god-like  face  when  beautiful 
Virginia,  loved  Virginia,  his  Virginia,  was  slain  with  a 
butcher-knife  by  her  own  father,  to  avert  dishonor  ? 
All  gone  !     Gone!  ! 

u  Dash  it,  then,  give  me  a  cigar,"  I  heard  him  say, 
as  I  passed  the  door. 

He  was  in  his  shirt-sleeves,  his  shirt  was  unbut- 
toned at  the  collar,  and  carelessly  thrown  open  to  let 
the  air  in  upon  his  manly  breast,  after  his  exertion ; 
and,  instead  of  the  "raven  locks"  he  had  worn  that 
night,  his  head  was  covered  with  short,  stiff,  reddish 
hair — bcks  not  so  easily  broken.  Still,  in  his  eyes, 
features,  and  voice,  with  all  his  change  of  dress  and 
bearing,  I  recognized  Icilius  !  "  How  are  the  mighty 
fallen  !"  Was  it  for  him  I  had  that  night  stamped, 
clapped  my  hands,  and  screamed  "Encore?"  I  felt 
small,  and  said,  to  myself,  "Icilius!  I-cili-us!  I 
silly  ass !  To  think  how  I  yelled,  cheered,  and  en- 
cored this  night  for  such  a  worm  as  thou!"  I  then 
went  up  to  my  room,  resolving  never  to  applaud  an 


CINCINNATI. 


203 


actor  again,  without  knowing  him  to  be  a  "  star."  It 
is  perfectly  safe  then,  for  we  seldom  see  them  in  dis- 
habille. 

Next,  day  Major  Kline  and  I  visited  a  pleasant 
resort  on  the  river  shore,  several  miles  above  the  city, 
known  as  "  Ohmer's  Zoological  Gardens.'^  "Pete" 
Ohmer,  the  proprietor,  was  a  friend  of  Major  Kline, 
and  he  cheerfully  accompanied  us  through  his 
pleasant  grounds,  showed  us  the  numerous  animals 
which  he  had  on  exhibition,  and  explained  their  pe- 
culiarities. They  were  all  in  cages,  because  some  of 
them  were   dangerous,  while  the  others   might  run 

away. 

He  had  one  "  gentle"  bear  that  was  a  perfect  pet, 
and  would  fondle  upon  one  like  a  dog.  (That  sentence 
is  ambiguous.  I  do  not  mean  that  he  would  fondle 
upon  one  who  was  like  unto  a  dog,  (the  son  of  a  female 
dog,)  but  that  he  would  fondle  in  a  manner  similar  to 
that  of  that  sagacious  animal.)  I  put  my  hand  in  his 
mouth,  and  he  playfully  closed  on  it  with  his  excellent 
teeth,  just  enough  to  make  the  blood  come :  no  more. 
After  that,  I  patted  him  affectionately  on  the  head 
and  left  the  cage.  As  I  did  so,  he  left  the  marks 
of  his  teeth  on  my  crutch,  and  growled  a  pleasant 

«good-by." 

Another  cage  we  visited  contained  an  animal  which 
I  thought   looked  fully  as  good-natured  as  the  pet 

bear 

«  What  animal  is  this,  Mr.  Ohmer?"  I  asked,  as  I 
walked  up  to  the  cage,  and  was  about  to  thrust  my 
hand  through  the  bars  and  pat  the  gentle-lookmg 
creature  on  the  h3ad. 


204  JOHN    SMITH    ON   A    CRUTCH. 

"  That  is  the  Cal Look  out !     Don't  put  your 

hand  in  !     Were  you  going  to  ?" 

"  Yes:  he  looks  so  pleasant,  and " 

"  0,  it's  well  you  didn't.  You  think  him  a  good- 
natured  fellow,  eh?  That's  what  we  call  a  Califor- 
nia Tiger.  Watch  me  stir  him  up,  if  you  think  him 
a  pleasant  fellow." 

He  picked  up  an  iron  rod,  thrust  it  into  the  cage, 
between  the  bars,  and  gave  the  creature,  which  had 
the  honor  to  hail  from  California,  an  abrupt  poke 
on  the  ribs.  The  result  fairly  startled  me.  The 
animal,  which  had  appeared  as  docile  as  a  kitten 
a  moment  before,  now  sprang  up,  uttered  a  growl 
as  fierce  as  thunder  only  ten  }rards  distant,  dis- 
played a  mouthful  of  sharp  white  teeth  an  inch 
long,  and  fastened  upon  the  iron  rod  with  its  savage 
jaws.  At  the  same  time  its  eyes  glared  like  balls 
of  fire,  and  seemed  ready  to  dart  out  at  me.  Al- 
together, the  savage  creature  looked  as  though  it 
could  bite  a  man's  leg  off  without  noticing  that  there 
was  a  bone  in  it. 

11  What  if  you  had  put  your  hand  in  ?"  said  Major 
Kline. 

11  It  would  have  bit  it  off,  I  suppose,"  I  returned ; 
"  and  I  couldn't  well  afford  to  lose  it." 

"Yes,"  said  Pete  Ohmer,  "he  could  snap  your 
hand  off  in  a  second,  and  eat  it  up ;  and  it  would  only 
give  him  an  appetite  to  eat  the  rest  of  you." 

I  could  not  help  congratulating  myself  on  my 
narrow  escape,  and  resolved  never  to  trust  my  hand 
to  an  unknown  animal,  merely  because  I  liked  its 
gentle  appearance. 


FALLS  CITY  AND   CAVE  CITY.  205 


CHAPTER     XXIX. 

Falls    City    and    Cave    City. 

T?  ARLY  in  May,  I  left  Cincinnati  and  went  to 
T_-/  Louisville,  Kentucky,  one  hundred  and  fifty 
/  miles  down  the  river.  I  took  passage  on  a  splen- 
did steamer — one  of  the  finest  on  the  Ohio  or  Missis- 
sippi. The  fare  was  only  two  dollars,  and  each  pas- 
senger was  furnished  with  two  excellent  meals  by 
the  way,  and  a  state-room  berth  when  night  came. 
It  will  naturally  be  thought  that  this  was  remarkably 
cheap  ;  and  so  it  was.  But  it  was  the  result  of  com- 
petition. "  Opposition"  boats  were  at  that  time  run- 
ning between  Cincinnati  and  Louisville,  and  the  fare 
— usually  four  or  five  dollars — had  crawled  down 
to  two.  Certainly  "  Competition  is  the  life  of  trade." 
This,  however,  does  not  quite  equal,  for  extreme 
consistence,  the  rates  of  fare  on  the  Hudson  river  boats 
some  years  ago,  when  an  "  Opposition  line "  from 
New  York  to  Albany  was  established.  The  distance 
from  New  York  to  Albany  is  about  the  same  as  that 
from  Cincinnati  to  Louisville ;  and  the  fare  got  lower 
and  lower,  at  one  period,  till  any  weary  traveler 
could  go  from  New  York  to  Albany — or  vice  versa — 
for  twelve  cents — meals  not  included.  Nor  did  the 
freaks  of  competition  end  then.     One  of  the  lines,  at 


206  JOHN  SMITH  OS  A  CRUTCH. 

last,  concluding  that  the  difference  between  twelve 
cents  and  nothing  was  but  a  mere  trifle,  reduced  the 
fare  twelve  cents,  and  carried  passengers  a  week  or 
two  for  nothing.  Not  to  be  outdone,  the  other  line 
not  only  carried  all  for  nothing,  but  promptly  paid 
ach  passenger  a  premium  of  six  cents  for  riding  from 
one  place  to  the  other.  It  will  be  naturally  supposed 
that  they  could  not  make  much  at  such  rates,  but  it 
is  said  that  the  number  of  passengers  was  so  great 
that  they  did  a  better  business  then  than  they  had 
done  when  the  fare  was  two-and-a-half  dollars. 

Louisville  is  the  largest  city  in  Kentucky — its 
population  being  now  about  ninety  thousand.  It  is  a 
great  tobacco  market,  and  has  some  of  the  most 
extensive  warehouses,  for  the  storage  of  that  weed,  in 
the  United  States.  The  principal  business  street  in 
the  city  is  called  Main  street,  and  it  is  one  that  would 
do  no  discredit  to  any  city.  It  is  wide,  perfectly 
straight,  about  four  miles  long,  and  is  lined  with  fine 
large  buildings  occupied  by  merchants.  A  well-con- 
ducted passenger  railway  is  laid  on  this  street. 

Louisville  is  also  called  the  M  Falls  City,"  because 
the  Ohio  river  there  takes  a  considerable  fall,  so  that 
steamboats,  except  at  high  water,  are  compelled  to 
pass  through  a  canal  with  several  locks.  The  Falls 
of  the  Ohio  at  Louisville,  are  not  abrupt,  but  extend 
with  a  gradual  descent,  over  two  or  three  miles.  Oppo- 
site Louisville  is  the  town  of  Jeffersonville,  Indiana ; 
and  three  miles  below,  on  the  Indiana  side,  is  the  city 
of  New  Albany,  with  a  population  of  about  sixteen 
thousand.     Of  course  I  visited  those  places. 

From  Louisville  I  determined  to  go  on  a  visit  to 


FALLS  CITY  ASD   CAVE  CITY.  207 

the  celebrated  Mammoth  Cave,  a  very  considerable 
and  extraordinary  hole  in  the  ground,  situated  about 
half-way  between  Louisville  and  Nashville— that  is 
to  say,  nearly  one  hundred  miles  from  each  place.  I 
was  informed  at  the  Falls  City,  that  I  should  take  the 
Louisville  and  Nashville  Railroad,  and  get  off  at 
Cave  City,  whence  I  should  take  a  stage  for  the 
Mammoth  Cave,  ten  miles  from  the  railroad. 

Leaving  my  trunk  at  my  hotel  in  Louisville,  I  took 
the  five  o'clock  evening  train,  and  arrived  at  Cave 
City— a  small  village  that  isn't  a  city  at  all— by 
reasonable  bedtime,  where  I  retired  to  rest  for  the 
night  in  a  good  but  rather  expensive  hotel.  I  was 
put  in  a  double-bedded  room  with  another  passenger 
from  Louisville,  who  also  intended  to  visit  the  Mam- 
moth Cave  next  day. 

The  clerk  having  conducted  us  to  our  room,  with- 
drew from  the  chamber  and  closed  the  door   after 

him. 

"I  wonder  if  there  is  a  lock  on  the  door?"  said  my 

companion. 

"  There  ought  to  be,"  I  replied.  "  We  should  se- 
cure it  by  some  means,  at  all  events." 

"  Yes,"  he  remarked,  "  I  always  make  it  a  rule, 
when  traveling,  to  see  that  every  thing  is  secure.— 
Yes,  here  is  a  lock  and  bolt,"  he  said,  as  he  walked  to 
the  door  and  examined  it.  He  turned  the  key  and 
shot  the  bolt.  "Are  you  going  to  the  Cave  to- 
morrow ?" 

"Yes,  that  is  my  object." 

"Did  you  come  on  the  train  from  Louisville?" 

"Yes;  did  you?" 


208  JOHN"    SMITH   OX  A   CRUTCH. 

"  Yes,  I  too.     I  am  from  Missouri :  and  you  ?"— 
"I  am  from  Pennsylvania." 

II  Were  you  engaged  in  the  war  ?" 
"Yes." 

"  Federal  side,  I  suppose." 

"  Yes ;  and  were  you  also — " 

"  Confederate." 

"Exactly.  Well,  we  are  fellow-citizens  and  country- 
men once  more,  and  let  us  congratulate  each  other 
that  the  strife  is  over.  If  you  are  going  in  the 
stage  in  the  morning,  we  will  be  traveling  compan- 
ions, and,  I  am  sure,  will  prove  agreeable  to  each 
other,  notwithstanding  that  we  have  been  fighting  in 
opposing  armies,  and  possibly  shooting  at  each  other." 

II I  agree  with  you,"  he  replied,  "  and  was  about  to 
make  such  a  remark  myself.  True  soldiers  never 
carry  animosities  home  with  them,  when  the  contest 
on  the  field  is  over." 

My  Confederate  companion  was  a  young  man  of 
prepossessing  appearance,  twenty-five  or  twenty-six 
years  of  age,  intelligent,  affable  and  polite ;  and,  as  the 
lamp  was  extinguished  and  we  retired  to  our  respective 
beds  in  opposite  corners  of  the  room,  I  congratulated 
myself  on  my  prospect  of  having  an  agreeable  com- 
panion to  join  me  in  my  visit  to  the  Mammoth  Cave 
oti  the  morrow.  !N~or  was  I  mistaken.  My  new  ac- 
quaintance proved  to  be  all  that  he  appeared — a  per- 
fect gentleman. 

With  a  confidence  I  seldom  feel  while  a  stranger 
is  sleeping  in  the  same  room  with  me,  I  fell  asleep, 
and  enjoyed  a  good  night's  rest,  after  my  ride  on  the 
train  from  Louisville. 


ABSENCE  FROM  THE  FACE  OF  THE  EARTH.   209 


CHAPTER     XXX. 

John    Smith's    Absence  fi^om  the  Face  of 
the  Earth. 

TVTEXT  morning,  having  taken  breakfast,  we  got 
I  N  into  the  coaeh,  and  departed  for  the  Mammoth 
/  Cave,  which  we  reached  after  a  not  unpleasant 
ride  of  ten  miles,  over  a  hilly  and  wooded  country. 
It  was  one  of  the  pleasantest  days  of  the  year,  and  the 
conversation  between  my  companion  and  myself  was 
of  such  an  agreeable  nature,  that  when  we  reached 
the  hotel  near  the  cave,  I  fancied  we  had  scarely  tra- 
veled half-a-dozen  miles.  The  length  of  time  we  had 
been  on  the  road,  however,  indicated  that  we  must 
have  traveled  fully  ten  miles.  It  was  about  ten 
o'clock. 

"We  each  paid  two  dollars  for  the  services  of  a  guide; 
and  the  latter  providing  three  lanterns,  and  some 
combustible  material  for  temporary  lights  at  certain 
particular  points,  accompanied  us  into  a  deep  valley 
near  by :  and  in  this  valley,  in  so  obscure  a  place  as 
to  be  almost  hid  from  the  eyes  of  men,  we  found  the 
entrance  to  the  renowned  Mammoth  Cave. 

It  is  not  my  intention  to  give  a  general  description 

of  it.     Many  a  graphic  account  of  the  great  cave  has 

been  furnished  by  tourists;  and  yet,  as  in  the  case 

of  Niagara  Falls,  no  one  has  ever  given  an  adequate 
U 


210  JOHN    SMITH    ON"   A   CRUTCH. 

description,  and  no  one  can  form  any  proper  concep- 
tion of  it  without  having  seen  it.  However,  I'll 
mention  a  point  or  two  that  may  prove  interesting  or 
amusing  to  the  "  gentle  reader." 

Once  within  the  cave, — which  we  entered  without 
striking  our  "brows"  on  the  overhanging  rocks  at 
the  entrance,  where  a  little  cascade  sings  away  its 
happy  life — the  guide  lighted  the  three  lamps  he  car- 
ried. It  is  customary  to  give  one  to  each  visitor,  on 
entering  the  cave-;  but  as  I  could  not  have  carried  one 
conveniently,  the  guide,  having  given  one  to  my  Con- 
federate friend,  carried  two  himself. 

We  then  walked  on,  following  a  straight  and  nar- 
row passage  for  a  quarter  of  a  mile  ;  by  which  time 
we  began  to  feel  quite  independent  of  the  sun.  It 
wrould  be  natural  to  suppose  that  dampness  would 
predominate  in  this  cave,  but  such  is  not  the  case. 
On  the  contrary,  quite  the  opposite  state  of  things 
prevails.  Except  near  the  subterranean  streams,  the 
cave,  both  over-head  and  under-foot,  is  as  dry  as  one 
could  wish  the  paper  on  which  he  writes — and  you 
know  that  isn't  sloppy. 

The  temperature  of  the  atmosphere  within  the  cave, 
at  all  seasons  of  the  year,  is  about  fifty-nine  degrees ; 
and  chemists  have  decided  that  the  air  is  purer  there 
than  without — that  it  contains  a  far  less  proportion  of 
carbonic  acid  gas. 

The  first  point  to  which  the  guide  respectfully  di- 
rected our  attention — for  he  was  very  polite — was  a 
place  called  the  "  Rotunda,"  situated  at  the  first  turn 
of  the  passage — or  rather  at  the  junction  of  this  pas- 
sage with  another  running  off  toward  the  left,  nearly 


ABSENCE  FROM  THE  FACE   OF   THE  EARTH.      211 

at  a  right  angle.  The  "  ceiling  "  of  this  "Rotunda" — 
so-called  from  its  resemblance  to  the  interior  or'  a 
dome — is  about  one  hundred  feet  high,  and  eighty 
feet  in  diameter.  Over  the  floor  are  still  strewn  some 
of  the  wooden  pipes,  used  by  the  miners  in  1812,  at 
which  time  saltpeter  was  taken  from  the  cave  in  large 
quantities. 

Turning  to  the  left,  we  soon  passed  a  small  stone 
hut,  and,  somewhat  surprised,  we  asked  the  guide 
what  it  meant  to  see  a  building  thus  far  under  ground, 
half-a-mile  from  the  light  of  the  sun. 

M  That,"  said  he,  "  and  another  similar  one,  which 
we  shall  soon  pass,  were  built  ten  or  fifteen  years  ago, 
for  residences  for  consumptive  patient?,  who,  it  was 
thought,  would  be  benefited  by  the  mild  and  regular 
temperature  of  the  air." 

u  And  is  it  possible  that  any  came  in  here  to  live, 
and  thus  shut  themselves  up  from  the  light  of  day,"  I 
asked. 

"Yes,"  returned  the  guide,  "a  number  tried  the 
experiment." 

"  And  with  what  result  ?"  asked  my  companion. 

"Not  a  very  satisfactory  one.  Several  of  them 
died  in  here,  and  never  saw  the  sun  again;  while 
nearly  all  who  lived  to  be  taken  out,  died  within  a 
week  or  two  after.  When  they  reached  the  light 
again,  it  was  discovered  that  all  their  eyes  were  per- 
fectly black,  no  matter  what  their  original  color  had 
been." 

This  fact,  my  friend  and  I  silently  doubted ;  but 
subsequent  inquiry  convinced  us  that  it  was  true. 
Any  person  who  desires   black  eyes    can  acquire 


212  JOHN-    SMITH    ON   A   CRUTCH. 

them  by  a  residence  of  a  few  months  in  the  Mam- 
moth Cave.  If  any  of  my  lady  readers  are  afflicted 
with  eyes  of  celestial  blue,  and  are  tired  of  them, 
they  can  have  them  promptly  dyed  black  by  taking 
apartments  for  three  months  in  the  Mammoth  Cave.  I 
don't  advise  them  to  doit,  though,  for  I — John  Smith 
is  but  mortal — have  a  weakness  for  blue  eyes  that  I 
cannot  overcome. 

A  few  hundred  yards  from  the  Rotunda,  the  pas- 
sage widens  out  into  a  spacious  apartment,  styled  the 
"  Methodist  Church."  It  is  so-called  because  a  con- 
gregation of  Methodists  used  to  hold  "divine  services  " 
there.  A  good  idea  ;  for  if  they  icere  a  little  noisy  in 
their  adorations,  they  did  not  disturb  anyone;  and 
their  prayers  could  as  easily  ascend  through  the  two 
hundred  feet  of  earth  above  them,  as  through  a  slate 
roof,  with  a  tall  spire  to  point  out  the  way. 

A  little  further  on  we  saw  a  hu^e  rock  which  had 
evidently  at  some  time  or  other  fallen  from  above — 
I  mean  from  the  roof  of  the  cave — which,  to  look  at 
it  from  a  certain  position,  is  a  most  perfect  semblance 
of  a  coffin.  It  is  termed  the  "Giant's  Coffin,"  as  the 
guide  informed  us.  It  is  forty  feet  long,  twenty  feet 
wide  and  eight  feet  deep.  It  would  make  a  good 
sarcophagus  to  bury  some  great  politician  in,  some 
day. 

Just  beyond,  the  guide  called  our  attention  to  some 
huge  figures  on  the  ceiling  above.  They  represented 
the  outlines  of  several  persons  of  immense  size.  He 
informed  us  that  they  were  styled  the  "  Giant,  his 
Wife  and  Child;"  and  }  just  wondered,  but  didn't  ask 
him,  if  they  were  to  be  put  in  the  "  Giant's  Coffin," 


ABSENCE  FROM  THE  FACE  OF  THE  EARTH.  213 

when  they  should  die?  These  figures  had  been 
formed  by  some  dark  substance  that  had  apparently 
oozed  from  the  rocky  roof. 

Soon  after  passing  them,  we  emerged  into  another 
spacious  apartment,  called  the  "  Star  Chamber;'  It  is 
so  called,  because  the  ceiling,  which  is  there  of  a  dark 
hue,  is  covered  with  white  spots;  and  when  we  gazed 
upon  it  for  a  moment,  in  the  meager  light  of  the 
lanterns,  it  looked  like  the  mighty  heavens  studded 
with  stars. 

"  Now,"  said  the  guide,  "  sit  down  on  those  rocks 
there  a  little  while,  and  I  will  take  all  the  lamps  and 
retire  into  a  recess,  where  you  cannot  see  a  single 
beam  of  them.  You  can  then  see  what  perfect  dark- 
ness is." 

We  sat  down,  and  the  guide,  taking  all  the  lamps, 
walked  away,  descended  into  a  kind  of  pit,  and  dis- 
appeared in  a  small  sub-cavern  ;  and  every  ray  of  light 
soon  vanished.  The  darkness  was  indeed  perfect ;  and 
it  occurred  to  me  that  if  a  man  intended  to  remain  in 
such  a  position,  he  might  as  well  have  his  eyes  sewed 
up  and  covered  with  black  sealing-wax. 

Neither  my  companion  nor  myself  spoke.  The 
darkness  was  so  absolute,  and  the  silence  so  profound 
that  strange  thoughts  came  into  my  head.  I  thought 
of  the  busy  world  without — fancied  I  saw  the  throng- 
ing multitudes  of  all  the  cities  and  towns  of  the  globe  ; 
and  the  moving  men  and  women  scattered  over  the 
broad  land ;  the  ships  with  their  crews,  tossing  about 
over  the  breasts  of  the  great  oceans ;  and  I  asked  my- 
self: "Does  the  eye  of  the  great  unknown,  incompre- 
hensible, Almighty  Being  who  created  and  who  gov- 


214  JOHN    SMITH   OS   A   CRUTCH. 

erns  the  Universe,  take  note  of  all  these,  and  still 
peer  into  this  silent  and  secret  place  ?" 

"  There  is  a  light  I"  exclaimed  my  companion,  after 
a  minute  or  so  of  black  darkness  and  grave-like 
silence. 

Silence?  No — all  the  while  I  had  heard  the 
beating  of  my  own  heart,  although  I  was  almost  un- 
conscious of  it  as  I  sat  musing,  and  the  very  absence 
of  sound  caused  a  singular  imaginary  ringing  in  my 
ears  that  I  had  never  experienced  before. 

I  looked  and  saw  our  guide  approaching  from  a 
different  direction.  He  had  traversed  a  small  passage 
not  known  to  visitors,  and  emerged  from  it  some 
forty  yards  distant. 

II  Now,  gentlemen,"  said  the  guide,  when  he  reached 
us  again,  "I  am  ready  to  accompany  you  further." 

"I  presume  we  will  see  the  'Bottomless  Pit,'  by 
and  ^by,"  observe  1  my  Confederate  friend,  as  we  arose 

"Yes,"  returned  the  guide,  while  we  walked  on 
"  That  is  a  mile  from  here.     We  will  pass  over  it." 

"And  the  river  Styx,"  said  I — "  where  is  it?" 

"About  two  miles  from  here,"  responded  the  guide. 

The  nonchalance  with  which  the  guide  would  speak 
of  miles  of  distance  in  the  cave  was  very  remarkable. 
He  would  say  of  such  and  such  a  point,  "  Why,  that 
is  two-and-a-half  (or  three  or  live,  as  the  case  might 
be,)  miles  from  here,"  just  the  same  as  one  in  the  out- 
side world  would  say,  "  You  will  find  the  Cross-roads 
about  two  miles  from  here;"  or,  "The  village  is  just 
four  miles  distant."  I  remember  his  once  telling  us 
that  some  point — I  forget  what — was  "five  miles 
from  here."     Five  miles  underground  I  Think  of  it. 


ABSENCE  FROM  THE  FACE  OF  THE  EARTH.  215 

FTowever,  that  is  not  the  extreme.  Persons  who  go 
in  to  spend  the  whole  day,  travel  as  far  as  nine  miles 
from  the  entrance.  We  only  went  three  or  four 
miles  from  the  entrance  that  day,  but  we  visited  a 
great  many  intermediate  passages,  etc.;  so  that  we 
probably  traveled  ten  miles  in  the  aggregate. 

In  half-an-hour,  after  having  seen  many  curiosi- 
ties by  the  way,  we  reached  the  celebrated  "  Bottom- 
less Pit."  Much  curiosity  regarding  this  pit  prevails 
among  those  who  have  only  heard  it  spoken  of: 
therefore,  I  will  remark  that  its  very  name  is  a  contra- 
diction in  terms.  A  pit,  in  order  to  be  bottomless,  must 
have  no  bottom  at  all ;  but  this  pit  has  one  bottom,  in 
a  very  good  state  of  preservation,  and,  therefore,  can- 
not be  bottomless.  If  the  word  bottomless  is  an  ad- 
jective of  the  comparative  order,  I  would  say  of  the 
"Bottomless  Pit;"  "There  are  no  doubt  bottomlesser 
pits  in  the  world  than  it  is,  but  it  is  the  bottomlessest 
pit  I  ever  saw." 

Directly  over  the  Pit  is  constructed  a  wooden 
bridge,  which — for  every  thing  is  named  there— is 
called  the  "Bridge  of  Sighs."  It  might  be  termed 
the  "Bridge  of  rather  small  Size,"  for  it  is  not  much 
wider  than  a  darkey's  foot. 

We  stepped  upon  this  structure — which  the  guide 
assured  us  was  perfectly  safe— and  stood  directly  over 
the  center  of  the  yawning  pit.  While  we  stood  there 
he  lighted  a  piece  of  peculiar  paper  he  carried  with 
him  for  the  purpose,  and  dropped  it  from  the  bridge. 
Away  it  went,  glaring,  flaring,  blazing,  fluttering, 
down,  down,  down,  till  it  reached  the  bottom  of  the 
oit  that  has  no  bottom.     I  do  not  mean  to  make  light 


216        JOHN  SMITH  ON  A  CRUTCH. 

of  it — in  fact,  it  is  too  dark  and  gloomy  to  be  made 
light  of — for  it  is  grand  and  terrible  even  as  it  is.  Its 
depth  is  probably  one  hundred  and  fifty  feet.  It  is 
round,  like  a  well,  and  about  twenty  feet  in  diameter. 
Water  a  few  inches  deep  stands  silently  on  the  bot- 
tom, and  the  loose  stones — probably  such  as  have  been 
cast  down  from  time  to  time — can  be  seen  peeping 
above  the  surface. 

The  guide  showed  us  another  pit  called  M  Side- 
saddle Pit" — so  named  because  to  see  into  it  one  must 
thrust  his  head  through  a  small  aperture,  the  lower 
part  of  which  is  in  shape  very  similar  to  a  side-saddle. 
This  pit  is  very  little  wider  than  an  ordinary  well, 
and  is,  we  were  informed,  more  than  one  hundred  feet 
deep. 

Not  far  from  this  we  arrived  at  a  wide  place  in  the 
subterraneous  passage  called  "  Revelers'  Hall ;"  be- 
cause it  is  customary  for  visitors  to  stop  there  awhile, 
rest  from  their  rambles  and  drink  each  other's,  or 
somebody  else's  health — if  they  have  anything  to 
drink  it  with.  I  happened  to  have  about  my  person 
somewhere — say  in  the  breast  pocket  of  my  coat,  for 
example — a  willow-encased  receptacle  containing  a 
strong  unmixed  toddy,  without  water  or  sugar.  I 
produced  it,  and  my  companion,  the  guide  and  I  im- 
bibed all  our  healths,  the  healths  of  all  other  visitors, 
the  healths  of  distant  friends,  the  health  of  the  owner, 
and  finally  of  the  Cave  itself,  with  all  its  curiosities 
and  wonders.  If  I  had  thought  of  it  at  the  time,  I 
would,  moreover,  have  proposed  Home  Tooke's  regu- 
lar after-dinner  sentiment:  "All  kings  in  h — 1;  the 
door  locked,  the  key  Io3t  /" 


ABSENCE   FROM   THE   FACE   OF   THE    EARTH.     217 

We  soon  after  visited  the  river  "Styx,"  which, 
unlike  the  Styx  of  mythology,  we  can  cross  without 
arriving  in  Erebus.  We  went  over  it  on  a  natural 
bridge  of  rock,  with  a  single  arch  through  which,  the 
dark  river  flows,  and  found  the  other  shore  about  the 
same  as  this — either  being  gloomy  enough  to  repre- 
sent Erebus,  on  a  small  scale.  We  descended  to  the 
water's  edge  on  the  opposite  shore,  and  embarked  in 
a  small  boat,  which  the  guide  propelled  with  a  long 
pole,  and  rode  a  few  hundred  yards  on  the  bosom  of 
the  awful  stream.  As  we  went  gliding  along  through 
those  gloomy  passages  that  frown  in  everlasting 
silence,  our  figures  barely  seen  in  the  dim  light  of  the 
lamps,  and  the  black  walls  grumbling  at  each  sound, 
and  echoing  it  back  and  forth,  I  thought  that 
nothing  in  the  depths  of  the  earth  could  be  more  like 
the  fabled  mythic  river  over  which  Charon  ferries 
his  passengers  to  Hades.  Certainly,  the  subterra- 
nean stream  could  not  have  been  more  appropriately 
named. 

In  some  places  we  passed  under  dark  arches  that 
hovered  over  us  so  closely  that  they  seemed  ready  to 
close  upon  us  and  crush  us  in  their  dismal  grasp ; 
and  in  other  places  we  passed  through  narrow  passages, 
where  there  was  no  path  on  either  shore,  and  we  were 
hemmed  in  on  both  sides  by  perpendicular  walls  of 
sombre  rock.  The  stream  is  from  twenty  to  fifty 
feet  wide,  and  is  not  very  deep,  except  in  some  noted 
places.  The  guide  assured  us  that  it  is  inhabited 
by  fish  without  eyes.  I  have  heard  doubts  expressed 
on  this  point,  but  there  can  be  no  reasonable 
doubt  about  it.     In  fact,  why  should  they  need  eyes 


218  JOHN    SMITH   ON   A    CRUTCH. 

there?  What  material  eye  could  penetrate  the 
awful  gloom? 

While  gliding  leisurely  down  the  dusky  river,  the 
guide  struck  up  a  song;  and  whether  his  voice  was 
sonorous  or  not,  or  the  words  beautiful,  I  thought  I 
had  never  heard  anything  sound  so  majestically  mu- 
sical. The  dim  dark  walls  took  up  the  words  and 
echoed  them  again  and  again ;  and  they  rolled  along 
the  passages,  like  half-tamed  thunder,  and  returned 
to  us  again  from  remote  pits  and  recesses. 

0,  what's  the  use  for  humble  John  Smith  to  at- 
tempt to  describe  those  scenes  of  awful  and  gloomy 
grandeur !  Let  me  desist,  and  escort  the  reader  from 
the  grandly  dismal  labyrinths,  the  yawning  pits  and 
frowning  recesses,  to  the  bright  day  again  I  As  we 
go  toward  the  entrance  I  will  mention  a  few  other 
thingrs  that  I  saw.  The  sjuide  conducted  us  into  an 
avenue — I  forgot  what  he  called  it:  some  "arcade," 
I  think — which  was  adorned  with  innumerable  stalac- 
tites and  stalagmites,  and  many  grand  columns  that 
seemed  placed  there  to  support  the  ceiling,  which 
had  been  formed  by  the  meeting  and  blending  to- 
gether of  stalactites  and  stalagmites.  The  stalactites 
form  like  icicles.  They  are  carbonate  of  lime,  i  e., 
limestone.  The  carbonate  of  lime,  mingled  with 
some  other  chemical  substance,  has  oozed  from  the 
ceiling,  and,  as  the  other  substance  leaves,  it  hardens 
into  suspending  columns,  as  water  freezes  into  icicles 
when  the  cold  air  carries  away  the  caloric  from  it. 

In  one  place,  four  columns  arise  in  a  kind  of 
cluster,  so  that  one  can  stand  among  them.  They 
constitute  what  is  termed  the  "Altar."     The  guide 


ABSENCE   FROM   THE   FACE   OF   THE   EARTH.    219 

told  us  that  a  marriage  ceremony  was  once  performed 
there.  A  young  lady  had  promised  her  mother 
during  the  latter's  dying  moments,  that  she  would 
"never  get  married  on  top  o' ground;"  but  as  time 
rolled  on,  and  the  dear  creature  concluded  that  it  was 
not  good  to  be  alone,  she  and  her  "  intended,"  accom- 
panied by  a  minister,  entered  the  Mammoth  Cave, 
repaired  to  this  novel  place,  and  were  married  under 
ground.  Literally,  she  kept  her  promise,  but  scarce- 
ly in  spirit.  It  looked  like  "  whipping  the — '  ould 
one — round  the  stump."  I  do  not  censure  her, 
though  ;  nor  should  I,  even  if  she  had  got  married  on 
the  "  cloud-capped"  crest  of  Mount  Hood  ;  for,  "  a  bad 
promise  is  better  broken  than  kept." 

It  was  three  o'clock  when  we  emerged  from  the 
cave,  an  I  experienced  the  blinding  influence  of  sud- 
denly returning  daylight.  Without  delay  we  re- 
paired to  the  hotel  and  took  dinner — for  which  we 
had  acquired  a  good  appetite — then  got  into  a  coach 
and  returned  to  Cave  City.  My  Confederate  friend 
wanted  to  travel  into  Tennessee,  and  cordially  bidding 
me  good-by  at  Cave  City,  he  left  on  an  evening  train. 
I  had  to  wait  till  twelve  o'clock  for  a  train  north- 
ward; and  I  passed  the  interim  very  agreeably,  play- 
ing ''  All-fours"  with  an  ugly  gentleman  who  wore 
spectacles,  and  begged  on  three  trumps. 

Although  this  work  is  no  "  Traveler's  Guide,"  as 
I  have  mildly  insinuated  before,  I  will  favor  the 
reader  with  a  tabular  statement  of  the  cost  of  visiting 
the  Mammoth  Cave,  making  Louisville  the  starting- 
point  : 


220        JOHN  SMITH  ON  A  CRUTCH. 

From  Louisville  to  Cave  City $4.00 

Supper  at " " 1.00 

Night's  repose  at "...." 1.00 

Breakfast  at " " 1.00 

Coach  from  Cave  City  to  Mammoth  Cave, 2.00 

For  guide,  (paid  to  proprietor,) 2.00 

Trifle  presented  to  guide  as  mark  of  esteem, 1.00 

Dinner  at  Mammoth  Cave  Hotel, 1.00 

Coach  back  to  Cave  City, 2.00 

Supper  at :i " 1.00 

Playing  "  All-fours  "  with  ugly  gent,  for  lemonade,..  1.00 

Train  back  to  Louisville, 4.00 

Incidentals, 5.00 

Other  incidentals, 2.00 

$28.00 

That  was  what  it  cost  me,  and  I'll  venture  to  say 
that  anyone,  by  being  economical,  can  visit  the  Mam- 
moth Cave  from  Louisville  for  the  same  amount. 


THE   NIGHTINGALE.  221 


CHAPTER     XXXI. 

The    Nightingale. 

TK  the  course  of  my  stay  in  Louisville,  I  had  the 
pleasure  of  an  introduction  to  George  D.  Prentice, 
/  Esquire,  the  well-known  editor  of  the  Louisville 
Journal  ;  and  I  found  him  as  agreeable  and  good- 
natured  as  he  is  witty.  He  was  engaged  in  writing  a 
scathing  article  denunciatory  of  Parson  Brovvnlow, 
at  the  time  my  friend  and  I  entered  his  sanctum,  and 
was  in  excellent  spirits. 

Perhaps  no  one  of  the  many  who  have  heard  of  the 
witty  journalist,  and  read  his  writings,  but  have  never 
seen  him,  has  ever  formed  any  correct  impression  of 
his  personal  appearance.  He  is  quite  homely,  does 
not  look  half  as  bright  as  he  really  is,  is  noble- 
hearted,  kind,  affable,  polite,  and  exhibits  a  partiality 
for  grain  products  in  a  liquid  form,  at  all  seasons  of 
the  year.  But  this  is  nobody's  business  but  his  own. 
About  the  middle  of  May,  or  a  little  later,  perhaps, 
I  took  passage  on  the  steamer  Nightingale,  for  Saint 
Louis.  The  steamer  was  a  stern-wheel  one,  pretty 
well  loaded,  and  did  not  make  very  fast  time ;  but  the 
weather  was  delightful,  every  thing  on  board  was  com- 
fortable and  pleasant,  and,  as  I  was  in  no  hurry,  I 


222  JOHN    SMITH   ON   A   CRUTCH. 

could  not  have  complained  if  the  journey  Lad  occu 
pied  a  week. 

Fellow  passengers  on  board  a  steamer  soon  make 
themselves  acquainted  with  each  other,  and  I  had  not 
been  aboard  twenty-four  hours  before  the  faces  of  all 
were  as  familiar  to  me  as  though  I  had  known  them 
for  years.  With  but  few  exceptions  they  were  agree- 
able persons.  The  captain  was  a  handsome  man  of 
twenty-eight  or  thirty,  and  one  glance  at  him  was 
enough  to  convince  any  one  that  he  was  a  true  gen- 
tleman. All  the  attaches  of  the  boat,  including  the 
bartender  and  porter,  were  just  what  they  should  be. 

Among  the  passengers  was  a  fellow  of  twenty- 
seven  or  twenty-eight,  who  called  himself  a  Doctor. 
He  told  me  he  was  from  New  York,  and  was  going  to 
Saint  Louis  to  establish  a  practice  for  himself. 

"  I  don't  care,"  said  he,  "  whether  I  am  successful  at 
first  or  not.  I  have  five  thousand  dollars  in  my 
pocket,  and  that  will  keep  me  a  year  or  so  without  my 
doing  much.  By  that  time,  I'll  get  myself  worked 
into  a  practice,  no  doubt." 

"  Certainly,"  I  agreed. 

He  was  not  a  fine-looking  man,  but  he  was  ob- 
viously a  vain  fool,  and  one  whom  I  thought  I  should 
not  like  to  trust  further  than  I  could  throw  a  comet 
by  the  tail.  Every  one  called  him  u  Doctor,"  and  he 
seemed  to  like  it.     I  will  say  more  of  him  by  and  by. 

The  sharer  of  my  state-room — he  occupied  the 
lower  berth — was  a  venerable  man  of  eighty  years,  a 
native  of  Missouri.  He  was  a  man  of  finished  educa- 
tion, and,  by  profession,  a  physician.  He  and  I  were 
so  much  pleased  with  each  other,  that  we  have  since 


THE   NIGHTINGALE.  223 

corresponded;  and  I  have  found  his  acquaintance 
truly  edifying,  as  well  as  agreeable.  His  name  was 
Crele. 

Dr.  Crele  told  me  a  sad  tale  of  his  troubles  in 
Missouri  during  the  war.  He  resided  in  Lafayette 
county,  of  that  State,  where  old  feuds  held  carnival 
during  the  desolating  civil  war.  He  had  taken  no 
part  in  the  contest,  in  any  way,  he  told  me  ;  and  he 
said  that  his  nearest  and  best  friend  on  earth  had 
lately  been  an  only  son  of  thirty  years — whom  he 
pictured  to  me  as  all  that  was  manly,  noble,  pure, 
honorable,  and  worthy  of  a  parent's  fond  affection. 
This  son,  he  said,  had  studied  for  the  ministry,  had 
acquired  a  rare  education,  and,  like  himself,  had 
taken  no  part  in  the  war.  But  one  bitter  night,  when 
he  himself  was  seriously  ill,  and  his  son  was  sitting 
by  his  bedside,  a  party  of  armed  men,  headed  by  an 
old  enemy  of  his  family,  abruptly  burst  into  his 
house,  and  shot  down  that  son — the  last  prop  of  his 
old  age.  One  of  the  reckless  and  deluded  men  was 
going  to  shoot  him,  as  he  lay  in  bed,  but  another  in- 
terrupted him,  saying  : 

"  Never  mind  the  old  white-headed  reprobate.  It 
isn't  worth  while.     He'll  soon  die,  anyhow." 

So,  sparing  him  a  few  dim  years  of  bitterness,  they 
ransacked  the  house,  carried  off  all  the  valuables  they 
could  find,  damaged  much  of  the  furniture,  set  the 
building  on  fire,  and  departed.  The  flames  were  ex- 
tinguished by  friendly  neighbors,  who  came  to  his 
assistance,  and  who  lifted  up  from  a  pool  of  blood  the 
lifeless  form  of  his  son. 

There  were  tears  in  the  old  man's  eyes  as  he  told 


224  JOHN    SMITH    ON    A    CRUTCH. 

me  this;  and  no  wonder.  His  hair  was  white,  his 
hand  trembled,  and  his  step  was  unsteady  with  age. 
He  must  have  felt  alone  in  the  world. 

I  will  not  state  which  cause  the  villains  professed 
to  be  attached  to,  who  murdered  the  Doctor's  son,  and 
left  him  a  blank  and  desolate  old  age.  There  were 
wrongs  and  outrages  committed  on  both  sides  during 
the  war.  No  reasonable  person  will  fail  to  admit  this. 
A  civil  war  gives  a  horrible  license  to  bad  men ;  and 
God  forbid  that  our  land  should  ever  be  blighted  by 
another. 

Gambling  was  not  allowed  on  board  the  Nightingale, 
but  there  was  a  good  deal  of  euchre- playing,  for 
amusement,  during  the  voyage.  At  Evansville,  In- 
diana, a  flourishing  town  of  eight  thousand  inhabi- 
tants, we  landed  for  half-an-hour,  and,  while  there, 
several  passengers  came  aboard  ;  among  them  was  a 
well-dressed  young  man,  with  what  I  considered  a  bad 
countenance.  He  had  cold,  gray,  almost  expression- 
less "windows"  for  his  "soul,"  to  look  out  at,  a 
smooth,  beardless  face,  and  a  mouth  with  an  unusually 
crescent-like  shape. 

This  person  had  not  been  aboard  very  long—  -a 
fact,  the  boat  had  barely  backed  away  from  the  land- 
ing and  begun  to  move  on  down  the  river,  when  he 
suggested  to  a  green-looking  fellow  that  they  should 
get  up  "a  little  four-handed  game  of  euchre — just  for 
amusement."  Mr.  Greeney  assented;  and  inducing  two 
otner  passengers  to  join  them,  they  began  to  while 
away  the  time,  as  we  glided  down  the  river,  "  passing," 
"taking  it  up,"  "turning  it  down,"  "ordering  it  up," 
"assisting,   "making   it,"   "going  it  alone,"  and- the 


THE  NIGHTINGALE.  225 

like.  If  I  remember  correctly,  Mr.  Greeney  and  Mr. 
Sharper — I  take  the  liberty  of  providing  these  names 
for  them — were  "  partners." 

Well,  a  game  was  played  through,  pleasantly 
enough,  and  another  commenced :  and,  by  and  by,  it 
was  Mr.  Sharper's  deal,  for  the  third  time.  There  is 
something  magical  about  that  number  three.  "The 
third  time  is  the  charm,"  it  is  said.  The  third  time 
a  man  does  any  particular  thing,  something  unusual 
is  sure  to  happen.     This  was  no  exception. 

"  My  hand  would  be  a  good  one  if  we  were  playing 
poker,"  observed  Mr.  Sharper,  carelessly,  as  he  took 
up  his  cards. 

T  chanced  to  be  standing  behind  Mr.  Greeney  at  the 
moment,  and  lo!  as  he  picked  up  his  cards,  he,  too, 
held  no  trifling  poker  hand :  four  kings  and  a  seven- 
spot. 

"  I  myself,"  said  Mr.  Greeney,  "  haven't  a  bad  hand 
on  poker." 

"  A  pity  we're  not  playing  it  then,"  Mr.  Sharper 
lazily  rejoined.  "  Well,  what  will  you  do  ?"  He 
addressed  this  pointed  inquiry  to  the  player  on 
his  left. 

"  I  pass,"  replied  the  latter. 

11 1  pass,"  said  Mr.  Greeney. 

"  I  pass,"  repeated  the  player  on  Mr.  Greeney's  left 
and  Mr.  Sharper's  right. 

11 1  turn  it  down,"  said  Mr.  Sharper,  adroitly  whirl- 
ing the  face  of  the  trump  card  downward.  "  Who 
will  make  it  ?" 

"  I  won't,"  said  the  player  on  his  left. 

"  1  won't "  said  Mr.  Greeney.    u  But — but — " 
15 


226  JOHN   9MITH    ONr   A   CRUTCH. 

"  Well  what  is  it  ?"  said  Mr.  Sharper,  in  a  tone 
barely  tinged  with  impatience. 

"  Why,"  rejoined  Mr.  Greeney,  with  a  frankness 
.hat  spoke  better  for  his  heart  than  his  head,  "  I  just 
wish  it  was  poker !" 

"  Why  ?"  asked  Mr.  Sharper. 

"Because,  I'd  bet  some — " 

"  Well,"  suggested  Mr.  Sharper,  with  a  careless 
yawn,  "  we  might  get  up  a  little  bet  on  our  hands, 
anyhow,  just  to  pass  away  the  time.  I've  felt  dull 
for  the  last  half-hour,  I'd  risk  something  on  my  hand, 
if  I  were  sure  of  losing.  But  I  warn  you,  it  is  not  a 
bad  hand.  Have  you  all  any  thing  like  poker  hands? 
Come :  a  pair  of  deuces " 

"  I  haven't,"  said  his  left-hand  man, interrupting  him. 

"Nor  I,"  said  his  left-hand-man's  partner,  wrho  sat 
on  his  right. 

"  Well,  darned  .  if  /  haven't,  though,"  said  Mr. 
Greeney. 

"Have  you,  really?"  responded  Mr.  Sharper. 
"  Well,  I'll  bet  five  dollars  on  my  hand,  win  or  lose." 
And  he  carelessly  threw  upon  the  table  a  crumpled 
five-dollar  bill,  which  he  took  from  his  vest  pocket. 

Mr.  Greeney  got  a  little  excited  at  this  demonstra- 
tion, laid  his  cards  on  the  table,  faces  downwards, 
of  course,  thrust  his  hand  deep  into  his  right- 
hand  trousers  pocket,  and  nervously  drew  forth  his 
pocketbook. 

"  I'll  cover  your  five  dollars,  and  go  five  dollars 
better,"  he  said,  with  firmness,  as  he  laid  down  a  ten- 
dollar  bill. 

Who  wouldn't  have  ventured  something  on  four 


THE  NIGHTINGALE.  227 

kings — '"next  to  the  best  hand  in  the  pack — that  had 
thus  come  out  by  chance,  while  playing  euchre  for 
amusement? 

"You  do?"  said  Mr.  Sharper,  glancing  up  and 
down  the  cabin.  "  Now,  the  captain  wouldn't  allow — 
however,  he  isn't  about.  I  didn't  think  of  risking 
more  than  five  dollars,  but  I  guess  you  are  trying  to 
bluff  me.  I'll  not  back  out.  Here's  fifteen  dollars 
more,  and  that  makes  the  bet  twenty."  And  he  pro- 
duced the  amount  specified. 

"Ten  dollars  better  still,"  said  Mr.  Greeney, 
promptly,  as  he  laid  down  twenty  dollars.  It  was 
quite  clear  he  had  played  poker  before. 

Mr.  Sharper  hesitated.  "  Thirty  dollars,"  said  he. 
"I — no,  confound  it! — I'll  put  fifty  on  the  top  of  it, 
and  that's  all  I  will  risk  1 — No — or,  yes ;  I've  said  it 
now,  and  will  stick  to  it.  It  won't  make  me  a  bank- 
rupt, if  1  do  lose."  Thereupon,  he  produced  three 
twenty-dollar  bills  and  laid  them  on  the  table— making 
the  bet  eighty  dollars. 

"I  call  you,"  said  Mr.  Greeney,  eagerly,  as  he 
counted  out  five  ten-dollar  bills  and  threw  them  down 
upon  the  table. 

"Four  aces"  said  Mr.  Sharper,  as  he  smilingly  dis- 
played the  hateful  four  that  can't  be  beat.  "  What 
have  you?" 

What  could  he  have,  in  a  case  of  that  kind? 

"Only  four  kings!  Darn  the  luck!"  poor  Mr. 
Greeney  exclaimed,  in  unfeigned  vexation.     Then  he 

said,  "  Pshaw  !"     "  The  deuce  on  it !"    "  I'll  be ! " 

and  several  other  words,  better  and  worse  ;  while  Mr. 
Sharper,  with  a  calmness,  complacence  and  benignity 


228  JOHN    SMITH   ON   A   CRUTCH. 

that  one  could  not  but  admire,  raked  down  the 
"pile,"  and  stowed  it  away  in  his  pocket. 

"Well,  whose  deal  is  it?"  said  Mr.  Sharper,  who 
seemed  to  devote  no  farther  thought  to  the  trifle  he 
had  won. 

They  finished  that  game  of  euchre — for  amuse- 
ment— then  Mr.  Greeney,  with  a  most  extraordinary 
expression  of  countenance,  arose  from  his  seat  at  the 
table,  and,  in  a  rather  husky  voice,  said  he  believed 
he  wouldn't  play  any  more;  he  seemed  to  have  lost 
all  interest  in  the  game  :  and  he  walked  away  whistling. 

Whistling?  Yes.  But,  O,  what  a  dull,  dry  sort 
of  a  whistle  he  made  of  it !  The  sudden  loss  of  eighty 
dollars  is  not  very  elevating  to  the  spirits  of  a  person 
in  moderate  circumstances ;  and  who  can  say  what  the 
poor  dupe  suffered  ?  Notwithstanding  all  his  at- 
tempts to  appear  unconcerned,  and  to  emit  a  forced 
whistle,  it  was  plain  that  he  was  suffering  no  ordinary 
mental  torture. 

How  remarkable  it  is,  that  when  a  man  feels  right 
bad,  and  don't  want  the  fact  made  public,  he  tries  to 
turn  it  off  with  whistling!  There  seems  to  be  some- 
thing soothing  in  a  strain  or  two  of  this  species  of 
music,  if  only  executed  with  any  skill ;  but  a  man 
who  is  suffering  inward  "  pangs."  can  rarely  get  the 
right  "  pucker"  on  his  lips.  Poor  Mr.  Greeney  made 
a  miserable  whistle  of  it,  and  if  he  had  wept  aloud 
for  his  lost  cash,  he  could  not  have  more  clearly  ex- 
hi bite  1  his  anguish  to  the  unsympathizing  spectators. 

The  game  being  ended,  Mr.  Sharper  purchased  a 
good  cigar  at  the  bar,  lighted  it,  and,  taking  an  arm- 
chair out  upon  the  cabin  deck,  seated  himself,  rested 


THE  NIGHTINGALE.  229 

his  polished  boots  on  the  railing,  and  laid  back  in  his 
chair,  quietly  smoking,  and  at  the  same  time  regard- 
ing the  picturesque  shores  of  the  river,  with  a  calm- 
ness and  self-satisfaction  that  must  have  been  agoniz- 
ing for  poor  Mr.  Greeney  to  look  at. 

When  the  Captain  learned  what  had  happened  in 
the  cabin,  he  went  to  Mr.  Sharper,  and  told  him  he 
must  leave  the  boat  at  Cairo,  as  soon  as  a  landing 
could  be  conveniently  effected,  as  he  could  not  tolerate 
a  gambler  on  his  buac. 

Mr.  Sharper  coolly  replied  that  he  had  not  intended 
to  go  further  than  Cairo,  anyhow  ;  but,  if  he  had 

The  Captain  interrupted  him  with  a  friendly  warn- 
ing against  any  thing  bordering  on  defiance  or  inso- 
lence. He  remarked  that  he  had  not  picked  a  black- 
leg or  thief  up  by  the  neck  and  heels,  and  pitched  him 
into  the  river,  for  nearly  a  year,  and  that  he  was  be- 
ginning to  feel  marvelously  like  taking  a  bit  of  such 
exercise;  and  that  he  would  assuredly  do  so,  if  so 
much  as  one  more  articulate  sound  should  escape  him 
(Mr.  Sharper).  The  latter  appreciated  the  warning, 
and  during  the  remainder  of  his  stay  on  board  the 
Nightingale,  maintained  a  commendable  silence. 

At  Cairo,  where  the  Ohio  river  empties  into  the 
Mississippi,  we  landed,  and  laid  for  a  couple  of  hours, 
before  proceeding  up  the  broad  Mississippi ;  and  Mr. 
Sharper  promptly  left  us. 

Cairo  is  a  city  of  about  twelve  thousand  inhabi- 
tants, and  but  for  the  unhealthy  nature  of  the  low 
country  surrounding,  it  would  eventually  become  one 
of  the  greatest  cities  of  the  Mississippi  Valley.  Its 
geographic  location  is  one  of  the  best  in  the  country, 


JOHN   SMITH    ON   A    CRUTCH. 

being,  as  it  is,  at  the  junction  of  two  noble  rivers. 
But  in  that  vicinity,  the  land  is  so  low  that  it  becomes 
inundated  for  many  miles  around;  so  that  the  air, 
especially  in  the  summer  season,  becomes  fraught  with 
mhisma.  Cairo  itself  is  built  on  very  low  ground, 
and  but  for  the  high  levee,  that  stands  as  a  perpetual 
sentinel  before  the  gates  of  the  city,  the  river  would 
be  continually  staring  in  at  all  the  doors  and  windows 
in  the  place.  Even  the  levee  is  overflowed  sometimes, 
and  the  streets  become  navigable  for  boats  of  mode- 
rate size. 

I  went  up  to  a  periodical  store,  on  the  principal 
street,  and  purchased  several  newspapers  of  a  late 
date.  Among  them  was  a  Louisville  Journal ;  and, 
on  casting  my  eye  over  it,  what  was  my  astonishment 
to  run  across  a  very  flattering  notice  of  myself,  which 
Mr.  Prentice  had  inserted.  It  stated  that  "J.  Smith, 
Esquire,  the  celebrated  author  and  poet,  who  had  lost 
a  limb  in  the  civil  war,  was  making  a  tour  of  the 
Western  States ;  had  honored  both  him  and  the  Mam- 
moth Cave  with  a  visit,  and  had  just  departed  for 
Saint  Louis,  on  board  the  steamer  Nightingale ! ! !" 

This  really  alarmed  me,  and  I  fancied  that  every 
one  who  looked  at  me  recognized  me  as  the  redoubta- 
ble John  Smith,  the  "  celebrated  author  and  poet," 
who  was  "  making  a  tour  of  the  Western  States." 

Fearing  that  some  enthusiastic  demonstration  might 
be  made  by  the  citizens  of  Cairo,  who  had  probably 
read  of  my  approach,  and  that  I  might  be  called  upon 
for  a  speech — and  I  hadn't  as  much  as  the  framework 
of  one  ready — I  hastily  returned  to  the  boat,  and  shut 
myself  up  in  my  stateroom,  and  did  not  sally  forth 


THE  NIGHTINGALE.  231 

again  till  the  Nightingale  was  steaming  gallantly  up 
the  Mississippi. 

Nothing  worthy  of  note  occurred  during  our 
voyage  up  the  river,  except  that  the  mosquitoes 
tormented  us  in  a  style  entirely  new  to  me.  They 
were  about  the  first  crop  of  the  season,  fresh  and  vig- 
orous, and  they  attacked  the  boat  in  numbers  amount- 
ing to  millions  of  millions.  0,  the  misery  of  that 
night !  How  the  little  fiends  tormented  me  !  Warm 
as  it  was,  I  shut  myself  up  almost  ail -tight  in  my 
stateroom  and  tried  to  defy  them.  I  thought  I  would 
rather  be  smothered  to  death  than  eaten  up  alive. 
But  even  there  they  found  me.  They  came  in  through 
the  keyhole,  in  two  ranks,  military  order,  and  at 
once  began  the  attack.  I  fought  bravely,  but  it  was 
of  no  use.  Faster  than  I  could  cut  them  down,  they 
received  reinforcements  through  the  keyhole — while, 
to  utterly  dishearten  me,  and  drive  me  to  despair,  I 
could  hear  myriads  of  them  still  without,  knocking 
at  the  door,  and  impatiently  waiting  their  respective 
turns  to  file  in  at  the  key-hole  and  drink  some  of  me. 

I  could  not  stand  it.  I  opened  the  back  door  and 
fled — fled  to  the  cabin  deck — to  the  hurricane  deck — 
to  the  boiler  deck — up  stairs  and  down — and  down 
and  up — and  back  and  forth,  and  forth  and  back, 
half  crazed — I  knew  not,  cared  not,  where !  I  had 
half  a  mind  to  jump  into  the  river,  and  take  refuge 
from  these  and  my  other  woes  in  the  bosom  of  the 
Father  of  Waters— but  didn't. 

They  pursued  me  everywhere  ;  some  of  them,  I 
believe,  went  in  advance  of  me,  to  be  ready  to  meet 
me  at  any  new  point  I  should  flee  to.     My  eyes,  ears, 


232        JOHN  SMITH  ON  A  CRUTCH. 

mouth,  nose,  cheeks,  chin,  neck,  hands  and  wrists 
were  covered  with  them;  and,  while  thus  tormenting 
me,  they  sang  musically  in  my  ears,  even  as  Nero 
played  "  Hail  Columbia,  happy  land  1"  on  a  banjo, 
while  Rome  was  burning.  0,  the  agonies  of  that 
night !  The  thundering  cannon  of  battle,  the  shriek- 
ing shell,  the  hissing  bullet,  and  glistening  bayonet, 
are  mere  toys  compared  with  these  fiendish  tor- 
mentors !  How  I  ever  got  through  the  night  I  cannot 
remember  distinctly.  It  seems  like  a  kind  of  long-con- 
tinued dream  to  me.  I  have  a  vague  recollection  of 
standing  at  the  bar  and  asking  the  bar-tender  if  he 
had  "  anything  calculated  to  keep  the  mosquitoes 
away  ?"  This  scene  recurs  to  me  as  having  been  re- 
peated several  times  that  night ;  but  I  think  it  only 
originated  in  the  imagery  of  delirium — for  I  must 
have  grown  delirious. 

The  next  night,  for  some  reason,  they  "  let  up"  on 
us  a  little,  and  I  got  some  sleep  ;  and  early  on  the 
second  morning  after  leaving  Cairo,  we  arrived  at  the 
"  Mound  City,"  Saint  Louis,  the  chief  city  of  the  Mis- 
sissippi Valley.  It  was  a  charming  morning,  not  too 
warm,  and  leaving  my  trunk  on  board,  I  walked  up 
into  the  city  for  the  purpose  of  securing  lodgings  for 
a  month.  Before  I  did  so,  the  passengers  had  all  bid 
each  other  good-by,  and  were  beginning  to  go  their 
different  ways,  wondering  if  any  two  of  us  should 
ever  meet  again. 

My  aged  companion  bade  me  a  cordial  farewell, 
and  took  passage  on  the  steamer  "Post  Boy,"  bound 
up  the  Missouri  river. 

The  vain  young  "Doctor,"  whom  I  have  mentioned, 


THE   NIGHTINGALE.  233 

went  to  the  Southern  Hotel — one  of  the  grandest  and 
most  aristocratic  in  the  country — and  registered  his 
name,  stating  that  he  would  remain  a  couple  of  weeks. 
That  T  may  not  be  troubled  to  speak  again  of  so 
worthless  a  fellow,  I  will  here  state,  that,  a  week  after, 
I  met  another  fellow-passenger  in  Saint  Louis,  who 
told  me  that  the  "  Doctor"  had  stayed  four  days  at  the 
Southern  Hotel,  and  then  absconded  without  paying 
his  bill.  This  most  pretentious  and  presumptuous  of 
the  passengers  of  the  Nightingale,  proved  to  be  an 
unworthy  loafer  and  a  base  fraud.     Such  is  life  I 


234         JOHN  SMITH  ON  A  CRUTCH. 


CHAPTER     XXXII. 

Smith's   Extraordinary     Adventures    in 
the    n  Mound    City." 

TT  7"E  had  landed  at  the  foot  of  Pine  street,  which  I 
V  V     followed  directly  up  into  the  city.     I  was  just 
J  about  to  cross  Third  street,  when  my  attention 

was  irresistibly  attracted  to  a  very  beautiful  girl  of 
eighteen,  who  came  walking  down  Third,  on  the  lower 
side,  and  turned  to  cross  and  go  up  Pine  street  but  a 
few  feet  in  advance  of  me.  I  was  just  thinking  how 
happy  a  man  her  husband  would  be,  in  case  she  should 
ever  take  it  into  her  head  to  get  one,  when,  as  she  reach- 
ed the  opposite  corner,  a  man  standing  in  the  door  of  a 
periodical  store  near  the  corner,  called  to  his  dog, 
which  had  strayed  across  the  street.  The  dog  was 
a  fine,  large,  sleek,  spotted,  good-natured,  intelligent- 
looking  fellow,  dressed  in  a  burnished  brass  collar. 
He  wore  a  pleasant  smile  on  his  sagacious  face,  and 
looked  as  though  he  wouldn't  harm  a  flea  that  was 
biting  him.  With  all  the  ready  obedience  of  the 
faithful  animal,  he  came  bounding  toward  his  master 
just  as  the  young  lady  in  question  arrived  opposite 
the  door.  It  appeared  that  she  had  not  observed  the 
owner  of  the  dog,  or  heard  him  call  to  his  property ; 
and  seeing  the  animal  come  bouncing  toward  her,  she 


ADVENTURES  IN  THE   "MOUND  CITY."         235 

naturally  imagined  that  the  sagacious  creature  was 
11  going  for"  her — and  how  did  she  know  but  that  he 
was  afflicted  with  chronic  hydrophobia  ?  On  the  im- 
pulse of  the  moment,  she  uttered  a  musical  scream, 
whirled  around  to  rush  back  across  Third  street,  and 
came  in  direct  contact  with  me.  It  was  so  sudden, 
and  unexpected,  that  the  shock  came  near  knocking 
me  down  under  a  cart-wheel  as  the  heavy  vehicle 
went  jogging  by,  near  the  curbstone ;  and,  to  make 
the  matter  worse,  she  slipped  on  a  bit  of  orange-rind, 
and  we  came  near  falling  down  together,  all  mixed- 
up.  To  prevent  this  catastrophe,  I  instinctively 
clasped  her  waist  in  my  encircling  arms,  while  she, 
on  the  spur  of  the  moment,  threw  her  plump  arms 
confidingly  around  my  manly  neck  I  And  there  we 
stood,  at  one  of  the  most  public  street-corners  of 
Saint  Louis,  unconsciously  embracing,  like  two  gen- 
tle lovers  that  hadn't  seen  each  other  for  a  month  of 
Sundays. 

"  0  ! — 0 ! — O-o-oo-oo  !"  she  exclaimed ;  "  excuse 
me  !   I  was  so  afraid  of  that  dog !" 

"  He  shall  not  hurt  you,"  I  gallantly  replied,  as  I 
released  her  from  my  protecting  arms,  and  picked  up 
my  cane,  which  had  fallen  in  the  confusion. 

"I  declare!"  she  said,  blushing  confusedly, —  I 
have  always  thought  this  was  because  she  perceived 
that  I  was  young  and  handsome — "I  might  have 
pushed  you  over!   I'm  sorry  !    Did  I  hurt  you  ?" 

"  O,  no  !"  I  replied  warmly,  wondering  at  the  same 
time  whether  she  meant  she  was  sorry  she  hadn't 
pushed  me  over ;  "  I  was  only  anxious  on  your  ac- 


236  JOHN    SMITH   ON  A   CRUTCH. 

count.  I  am  happy  that  it  was  my  privilege  to  save 
you  from  falling,  when  you  slipped." 

"  Thank  you  ;  but  it  wouldn't  have  hurt  me.  If 
you  had  fallen,  though — and  you — you" — 

She  was  going  to  allude  to  the  trifling  circum- 
stance that  I  lacked  one  of  the  usual  number  of  legs, 
but,  with  some  delicacy,  hesitated. 

"  0,  it  wouldn't  have  hurt  me,"  I  said,  coming  to 
her  relief;  "there  isn't  so  much  of  me  to  fall  now 
and  I,  therefore,  don't  fall  so  hard  as  others." 

As  we  were  both  going  up  Pine  street,  we  walked 
on,  side  by  side,  and  I  had  the  pleasure  of  her  com- 
pany for  four  squares.  We  walked  slowly,  too.  I 
could  have  walked  four  hundred  squares,  if  she  had 
kept  on ;  but  when  we  reached  Seventh  street,  she 
told  me  she  lived  just  aroun  1  the  corner.  There- 
upon, we  bade  each  other  an  affectionate  farewell  and 
parted. 

I  crossed  Seventh  street  and  walked  about  half 
way  to  Eighth,  when,  thinking  that  the  young  lady 
had  had  time  to  get  out  of  sight,  I  retraced  my  steps. 
After  I  had  gone  a  little  way  below  Seventh,  I  des- 
cried  a   card   on   a  door,    containing   the   following 

notice : 

11  Furnished  Rooms  to  Let." 

I  rang  the  door-bell,  was  soon  shown  in,  and, 
stating  that  I  desired  a  lodging-room  for  three  or 
four  weeks,  was  shown  a  neat,  well -furnished  room 
on  the  second  floor,  which  the  landlady  said  was 
worth  five  dollars  a  week,  and  would  be  very  suita- 
ble for  a  gentleman  and  wife.  I  stated  that  I  would 
occupy  it  alone,  gave  the  landlady  twenty  dollars  for 


ADVENTURES   IN   "THE   MOUND   CITY."         237 

four  weeks'  possession  of  the  room,  then  went  down 
to  the  boat  and  sent  my  trunk  up  by  an  express 
wagon. 

I  was  again  walking  up  Pine  street,  and  once  more 
crossing  Third,  when  some  one  tapped  me  on  the 
shoulder,  and  a  voice  behind  me  exclaimed, 

"  Why,  Smith  !  is  this  you  ?" 

I  turned,  stating  that  it  was — for  I  never  ignored 
my  proud  name — and  beheld  a  familiar  face.  It  was 
that  of  one  whom  I  had  known  when  a  boy,  but  had 
not  seen  for  some  years.  His  history  is  somewhat  re- 
markable. When  I  knew  him  in  my  youth,  he  was 
a  young  man  of  twenty  years,  and  quite  proverbial 
for  his  piety.  He  was  often  pointed  out,  to  the  profli- 
gate youth  of  the  village  I  lived  in,  as  a  shining  ex- 
ample of  Christianity,  and  he  was,  in  truth — or 
seemed — so  sober,  honest,  and  good,  as  to  put  ordi- 
nary young  fellows  to  shame,  by  comparison. 

His  name  was  Albert  Hague.  His  occupation  was 
that  of  salesman  in  a  dry-goods  store  ;  and  such  confi- 
dence did  he  ever  command,  that  his  employers 
trusted  him  implicitly  with  everything  about  their 
stores — safe- keys,  cash  accounts,  and  the  like.  By 
and  by,  however,  much  to  the  astonishment  and 
amazement  of  all  who  knew  him,  he  actually  stole 
ten  thousand  dollars  from  his  employer,  and  ab- 
sconded. From  that  time  forth,  nothing,  to  my 
knowledge,  had  been  heard  of  him  in  the  old  neigh- 
borhood; and  this  was  the  man  I  unexpectedly  met 
in  Saint  Louis. 

II  Why,  Bert  I"  I  exclaimed,  shaking  hands  with 
him — for  I  was  truly  glad  to  meet  any  familiar  face 


238  JOHN   SMITH   OS  A   CRUTCH. 

in  a  strange  city — "  is  this  you  ?  Where  do  yon  come 
from  ?" 

"I  am  living  here,"  he  said.  "I  saw  you  crossing 
the  street,  and  did  not  know  whether  to  hail  you  or 
not.  I  fancied  that,  after  what  you  know  of  me,  you 
would  not  speak  to  me." 

"Then  you  do  not  know  me,"  I  replied.  "You 
never  injured  me,  if  you  did  commit  a  grievous  offense. 
It  is  a  great  mistake  to  cast  every  one  down  as  soon 
as  he  commits  an  error.  It  is  no  way  to  recover  him. 
It  only  discourages  him,  and  renders  him  indifferent 
about  reforming. — I  have  just  hired  a  room  on  Pine 
street.     Come  with  me,  and  tell  me  all  about  it." 

We  walked  up  Pine  street,  and  were  soon  sitting 
in  my  room.  There  he  told  me  all  that  had  happened 
to  him.  He  had  eluded  the  law,  and  fled  with  his 
ill-gotten  ten  thousand  dollars  to  California,  where, 
he  said,  he  saw  no  rest,  day  or  night.  He  declared 
that  when  I  knew  him  as  a  pious  young  man,  he  was 
all  that  he  appeared  to  be ;  but  said  that,  by  and  by, 
he  began  to  be  tempted  to  take  advantage  of  the  ex- 
cellent opportunity  he  had  to  acquire  a  large  amount 
of  money ;  and,  in  an  evil  moment,  yielded. 

He  did  not  remain  in  California  three  weeks,  he 
said,  before  his  conscienco  compelled  him  to  return 
to  Pennsylvania  and  restore  the  ill-gotten  cash  to  its 
owner ;  which,  he  said,  he  had  recently  done. 

He  had  now  determined,  he  remarked,  never  to  yield 
to  temptation  again,  and  was  resolved  to  atone  for 
the  past  by  a  future  life  of  integrity  and  uprightness ; 
he  now  had  a  position  as  salesman  in  a  wholesale 
house  in  Saint  Louis,  and  was  doing  well.     He  gave 


ADVENTURES   IN    "THE   MOUND   CITY."         2S9 

me  the  name  of  the  house,  and  asked  me  to  call  and 
see  him.  He  remarked  that  he  could  freely  confide 
in  one  who  had  so  readily  overlooked  his  former  dis- 
grace. 

I  replied  that,  as  a  matter  of  course,  it  would  in- 
jure him  for  his  employers  to  know  his  past  history, 
that  I  believed  he  was  sincere  in  his  good  resolution, 
and  that  he  need  not  feel  apprehensive  that  I  should 
ever  cast  a  stumbling-block  in  his  way. 

The  strictly  "  pious,"  with  the  blindness  that  too 
often  characterizes  them,  may  censure  me  for  not 
warning  his  employers ;  but  let  them  do  so.  Do  they 
think,  that  when  a  man  commits  one  crime,  he  is 
necessarily  lost,  forever  ?  Suppose  I  should  have 
regarded  it  as  a  duty  to  go  to  his  employers  and  tell 
them  what  I  knew  of  Hague  ?  He  would  have  been 
discharged  at  once,  because  they  could  never  have 
relied  on  him.  He  would  then  have  despaired  of 
recovering  from  the  effects  of  that  one  error ;  and  no 
matter  how  good  his  intentions  might  have  been, 
while  his  prospects  were  bright,  be  would,  probably, 
have  turned  a  rogue  again,  on  the  first  opportunity, 
because  he  had  no  other  alternative. 

It  is  a  fearful  mistake  to  thrust  a  man  down  at 
once,  for  his  first  crime,  instead  of  taking  him  by  the 
hand  and  lifting  him  up :  it  is  that  unchristian-like 
policy  that  fills  our  penitentiaries,  and  gives  such 
frequent  employment  to  the  hangman.  Frown  on 
vice  as  much  as  you  please ;  but  do  not  frown  on  all 
who  once  yield  to  temptation.  If  you  hope  or  wish 
to  save  them,  display  some  forbearance.  Eemember 
we  all  have  our  faults.    And  we  are  all  only  too  apt  to 


240  JOHN   SMITH   ON   A   CRUTCH. 

"  Compound  for  sins  we  are  inclined  to, 
By  damning  those  we  have  no  mind  to," — 

as  Hudibras  sajs. 

"  There  is  none  good :  no,  not  one."  We  have  all 
committed  bad  deeds,  of  some  kind  or  other,  whether 
they  come  within  the  pale  of  the  law  or  not.  If  you 
demand  strict  justice,  look  to  yourself.  "  Use  every 
man  after  his  desert,"  says  Hamlet,  "  and  who  shall 
'scape  whipping?" 

My  pious  friends,  remember  that  none  of  you  are 
quite  perfect.  Remember,  that  if  there  is  a  God, — 
"  And  that  there  is,  all  Nature  cries  aloud  P — His 
eye  is  upon  you  ;  and  if  you  cannot  tolerate  your 
fellow-creatures,  simply  because  their  sins  happen  to 
be  of  a  different  class  from  yours — though  probably 
no  worse — how  can  you  expect  Him  to  bear  with 
you? 

I  did  not  remove  from  Saint  Louis  for  four  weeks, 
and  during  that  time  made  a  number  of  little  excur- 
sions into  the  interior  of  the  state,  and  also  into  the 
state  of  Illinois,  which  lies  on  the  east  side  of  the 
river. 

I  liked  the  "  Mound  City  "  very  well.  As  it  may 
not  be  generally  known  why  Saint  Louis  is  styled 
the  "  Mound  City,"  I  will  state  that  it  is  because  the 
ground  on  which  it  is  built  was  once  occupied  by 
numerous  artificial  mounds,  supposed  to  have  been 
built  by  the  Indians. 

It  may  not  be  out  of  place,  either,  to  say  a  word 
regarding  the  pronunciation  of  the  name  of  the  city. 
I  observed  that  all  the  citizens  give  it  the  old  French 
pronunciation — that  is,  Saint  Loo-ee — the  final "  6  "  not 


ADVENTURES   IN   "THE    MOUND   CITY."         241 

being  sounded.  It  should  "be  so  pronounced  by  all, 
as  the  citizens  of  a  place  are  generally  accepted  as 
authority  in  such  matters.  I  observed  the  same  fact 
in  Louisville,  Kentucky.  The  citizens  there  pro- 
nounce it  Lou-ee-ville.  It  would  sound  harsh  to 
them  to  hear  it  pronounced  as  it  is  spelled — Lou-is- 
ville.  The  sibilant  sound  of  the  "s"  would  make 
the  drums  of  their  ears  quiver. 

I  was  not  at  first  favorably  impressed  with  the 
water  in  Saint  Louis ;  but  I  soon  became  fond  even 
of  that.  The  water  is  taken  from  the  Mississippi 
river,  and  is  always  very  muddy.  Let  an  ordinary 
bucketful  of  it  stand  awhile,  and  an  inch  of  "mire" 
will  settle  on  the  bottom.  This  muddy  state  of  the 
fluid  is  owing  to  the  turbid  Missouri  river,  which 
empties  into  the  Mississippi  twenty  miles  above 
Saint  Louis.  Chemically,  however,  this  water  has 
been  pronounced,  by  scientific  men,  the  purest  in 
tho  country.  It  is  said  to  be  perfectly  free  from 
all  deleterious  minerals,  and,  when  the  mud  is 
taken  from  it,  is  as  nearly  pure  water  as  can  be  pro- 
duced. 

The  fire  arrangements  in  Saint  Louis,  as  in  most 
western  cities,  are  very  imperfect.  While  there,  it 
was  my  luck  one  day — and  I  had  had  the  same  luck 
in  Louisville,  where  I  made  the  same  observations — 
to  stand  in  the  immediate  presence  of  a  destructive 
fire,  when  it  first  broke  out.  A  heavy  volume  of 
black  smoke  rolled  up  toward  the  blue  sky,  the 
flames  burst  out  through  roofs  and  windows,  and 
leaped  for  mad  joy,  walls  crumbled  down  at  their 
leisure,  and  I  think  that  twenty-five  minutes  or  half- 
16 


242  JOHN    SMITH   ON   A   CRUTCH. 

an-hour  elapsed  before  any  steamer  or  hose-carriage 
made  its  appearance.  I  do  not  attach  so  much  blame 
to  the  firemen  themselves — although  they  are  not  so 
active  as  New  York  or  Philadelphia  firemen — as  to 
the  deficiency  of  the  force.  On  this  occasion  I  was 
told  that  the  same  firemen  had  been  working  all  the 
afternoon,  at  a  fire  in  a  distant  part  of  the  city,  and  I 
could  not  wonder  that  they  were  a  little  tardy. 
Their  force  should  be  at  least  doubled — but  I  think 
they  will  realize  this  ere  long.  Louisville  and  Saint 
Louis  are  now  fast  recovering  from  the  paralyzing 
effects  of  the  recent  unhappy  war ;  they  do  not  lack 
enterprise ;  and  I  predict  that  in  a  few  years  their 
arrangements  for  protecting  property  against  the 
flames  will  be  equal  to  those  of  the  eastern  cities. 


HOW  NOT  TO  OPEN  A  PATENT  LOCK.    243 


CHAPTER     XXXIII. 
fiow  not  to   Open  a  Patent  Lock. 

TT  7ISHING-  to  visit  some  portions  of  Iowa,  I  started 
YV     up  the  Mississippi  in  June,  on  a  boat  running 
/  regularly  between  Saint  Louis  and   Keokuk, 

an  Iowa  town  or  city  with  a  population  of  eight  thou- 
sand, situated  at  the  mouth  of  the  Des  Moines  river. 
It  is  two  hundred  and  twenty-four  miles  above  Saint 
Louis. 

Only  one  funny  thing  happened  during  my  voyage 
from  Saint  Louis  to  Keokuk,  and,  probably,  one  of  the 
parties  concerned  could  not,  have  been  led  to  agree 
that  even  that  was  funny.  It  occurred  during  the 
day  following  our  departure  from  Saint  Louis,  while 
the  boat  was  lying  at  the  landing  at  Quincy,  a  city  of 
twenty-five  thousand  souls,  on  the  Illinois  shore. 

The  boat  laid  there  for  half  an-hour;  I  know  not 
what  for,  as  no  freight  was  being  shipped  or  put 
ashore.  During  that  brief  half-hour,  two  sharpers 
came  aboard.  They  were  confederates,  or  "pals," 
but  pretended  not  to  know  each  other.  In  fact,  one 
of  them,  whom  I  shall  style  Number  One — although 
they  were  both  number  one  rogues — came  aboard  a 
few  minutes  before  the  other,  whom  I  shall  call 
Number  Two.     He  did  not  go  up  to  the  cabin  deck, 


244  JOHN    SMITH   ON   A   CRUTCH. 

bat  stood  on  tbe  boiler  deck,  talking  with  tbe  deck- 
bands  —most  of  whom  were  darkeys — and  asking  sucb 
questions  as  were  calculated  to  convince  any  one  tbat 
be  was  badly  green. 

By  and  by,  Number  Two,  Esquire,  came  aboard, 
carrying  a  kind  of  padlock  in  his  band,  and,  witb  a 
respectful  manner,  said  to  Number  One. 

11  My  friend,  can  you  tell  me  bow  soon  tbis  boat 
will  go  up  the  river?" 

"No,  sir,"  replied  Number  One;  "I  just  came 
aboard." 

"She  go  up  de  riber  in  a  little  bit,"  put  in  one  of 
the  darkeys  that  were  lounging  idly  about  tbe  bulk- 
bead. 

"  Thank  you,"  said  Number  Two,  who  appeared  to 
be  a  perfect  gentleman.  He  was  walking  up  the 
steps  leading  to  tbe  cabin  deck,  when  Number  One 
called  out: 

11  Stranger — excuse  me — but  are  you  the  gentleman 
I  saw  up  in  town  with  the  new  patent  lock  ?" 

"  Yes,"  returned  Number  Two,  pausing  on  tbe 
stairs :  "  this  is  it." 

"  Would  you  be  kind  enough  to  let  me  look  at  it  ?" 

"  Certainly,"  returned  Number  Two,  witb  an 
obliging  air,  as  he  descended  the  stairs. 

"Perhaps,"  suggested  Number  One,  "you  are  in  a 
hurry,  and — " 

"0,  no,"  replied  Number  Two;  "not  at  all.  I 
intend  to  take  passage  on  the  boat,  and  I  can  go  up  to 
the  office  at  any  time  and  pay  my  fare."  And  be 
handed  Number  One  the  lock. 

"I  believe  I  beard  you  say,"  observed  Number 


HOW  NOT  TO  OPEN  A  PATENT  LOCK.    245 

One,  as  he  began  to  inspect  it,  "  that  this  is  your  own 
invention." 

li  It  is,"  replied  Number  Two. 

"  Have  you  a  patent  for  it?" 

"  Yes,  it  was  patented  but  lately." 

The  deck-hands  and  several  passengers,  who  hap 
pened  to  be  strolling  about  the  lower  deck,  now 
collected  around  and  gazed  on  the  lock  with  curious 
eyes. 

"  Did  I  understand  you  to  say,"  queried  Number 
One,  "that  no  key  is  used  to  open  the  lock?" 

"  Correct.  No  key  is  required,  I  can  simply  take 
it,  shoot  the  ring-bolt  into  its  place,  and  I'll  bet  any 
man  a  hundred  dollars  that  he  can't  open  it." 

The  spectators  looked  on  with  increased  interest. 

M  Lock  it  for  me,"  said  Number  One,  handing  it 
back  to  the  owner.     "  I  would  like  to  try  it." 

"Certainly."  Number  Two  took  the  lock — a 
spring-lock,  apparently — shot  the  bolt  into  its  place, 
with  a  snap,  and  returned  it  to  Number  One.  "  There," 
said  he,  "you'll  be  the  sharpest  man  I  ever  saw  if  you 
open  it." 

The  spectators  now  gathered  around  closer,  and 
looked  on  with  an  interest  that  was  intense. 

Number  One  took  the  lock,  inserted  his  finger  in 
the  ring-bolt  and  took  a  dead  pull  on  it. 

"  It  won't  come  open  that  way,"  he  remarked,  as  he 
pretended  to  scan  it  more  closely. 

"  No,"  replied  Number  Two;  "you  might  as  well 
pull  against  two  yoke  of  oxen." 

Presently,  Number  One  appeared  to  discover  a 
Alight, — almost  imperceptible, — protuberance,  which 


246  JOHN  SMITH  ON  A  CRUTCH. 

looked  as  though  it  might  connect  with  a  secret 
spring;  and  pressing  this  slyly,  he  opened  the  lock, 
and  handed  it  back  to  Number  Two,  with  an  air  of 
triumph. 

"There,"  said  he  ;  "  when  you  invent  another  lock, 
bring  it  to  me  and  FU  open  it  for  you." 

A  loud  laugh  went  round  at  the  expense  of  Number 
Two,  who  seemed  much  disconcerted. 

"  Ha,  ha,  ha,"  laughed  an  ebony  deck-hand.  "  If  all 
de  locks  was  dat  easy  opened  a  fellahs  prwopehty 
wouldn't  be  very  safe." 

"  You  can't  open  it,"  retorted  Number  Two,  a  little 
irritated. 

"  What'll  you  bet?"  said  darkey. 

"I'll  bet  a  hundred  dollars  you  can't,"  said  Number 
Two,  whom  discomfiture  seemed  to  have  rendered 
reckless. 

"  Will  you  bet  me  a  hundred  dollars  that  I  can't 
open  it?"  asked  Number  One,  boldly. 

"  No,"  returned  Number  Two.  "  You  have  opened 
it  once,  and  know  how;  or  else  I  would.  Why 
didn't  you  bet  before  you  tried  it?  you  would  have 
won  then." 

"  I'm  sorry  I  didn't  now,"  said  Number  One. 

'■  0,  pshaw !"  said  the  same  darkey  who  had  spoken 
before.     "  I  seen  how  him  opened  it !" 

"  Well,  you  can't  open  it,"  retorted  Number  Two, 
banteringly. 

"  An'  will  you  bet  me  a  hundred  dollahs  I  can't?" 
said  the  darkey,  on  whose  black  face  I  could  read 
enterprise. 

I  happened  to  be  sitting  by  the  railing  of  the  cabin 


HOW  NOT  TO   OPEN   A   PATENT   LOCK.  247 

deck  just  above,  and  could  look  down  and  witness  the 
whole  scene. 

"  Why — I — yes — yes,  I  will,"  stammered  Number 
Two,  with  well-feigned  hesitation. 

"  You'll  lose  then,"  Number  One  said,  in  a  low  tone, 
as  though  speaking  to  himself. 

"  Will  you  put  up  de  money  ?"  pursued  the  darkey. 

11 1 — why  wouldn't — yes,  I  will.  I  won't  be  backed 
out,  even  if  I  lose.  I'll  put  up  the  money  in  the 
hands  of  this  gentleman  or  any  one  else."  When  he 
said  "this  gentleman,"  he  pointed  to  Number  One. 

"  You  had  better  not  trust  me  with  the  stakes,"  said 
the  latter  jocosely,  "I  might  run  off." 

"  0,  no  fear  of  that,"  replied  Number  Two.  "  We'll 
trust  you.     I  know  a  gentleman  when  I  see  one." 

"  By  golly  ! — I — I  bet,"  said  the  darkey,  decidedly. 
And  he  produced  a  fifty-dollar  bill  and  some  odd  tens 
and  fives  amounting  in  all  to  one  hundred  dollars; 
and  he  handed  the  money  to  Number  One,  who  was 
to  act  as  stake  holder. 

11  Come,  now,"  said  another  darkey,  to  Number 
Two,  as  the  latter  hesitated.  "  Don't  back  out.  Put 
up  your  money." 

"Confound  me  if  I'll  be  backed  out!"  he  said,  as 
he  took  out  his  pocket-book,  counted  out  one  hundred 
dollars  and  handed  it  to  the  stake-holder. 

0,  that  money  was  in  precious  hands! 

"  Now,"  said  the  darkey,  who  had  made  up  his  mind 
to  win  or  lose  one  hundred  dollars,  "fix  de  lock  fur 
mo." 

Number  Two  "fixed"  it. 

The  darkey  took  it,  and  first,  merely  as  a  matter  of 


248        JOHN  SMITH  ON  A  CRUTCH. 

form,  took  a  pull  at  the  ring-bolt.  It  would  not  open, 
of  course.  Well,  no  matter :  he  knew  where  that 
"secret  spring  "  was.  You  bet !  lie  easily  found  the 
little  protuberance,  and  pressed  on  it  with  his  thumb. 
But  it  wouldn't  open.  He  pressed  harder.  No  go. 
He  pressed  harder  still,  and  pulled  harder  at  the  ring- 
bolt, at  the  same  time.  Bootless.  He  pressed  harder 
still  and  pulled  harder  still.  Vain  efforts.  He  got  a 
little  apprehensive  and  a  little  desperate.  The  sum 
of  one  hundred  dollars  was  at  stake.  The  lock  must 
be  opened.  He  inserted  the  ring-bolt  between  his 
white  teeth,  placed  his  thumb  on  the  imaginary  spring, 
and  pulled  and  pressed,  and  pressed  and  pulled,  with 
the  energy  of  despair.  The  lock  was  firm  :  his  efforts 
futile. 

A  laugh  now  went  round  at  the  poor  darkey's  ex- 
pense ;  and  he  trembled,  perceptibly,  while  his  face 
assumed  a  sort  of  lead-color,  with  a  greenish  tinge. 
His  thick  lips  also  became  quite  void  of  moisture,  and 
he  spoke  in  a  husky  voice. 

"Dun'no — dun'no — wedder  I  kin  open  him  or  not." 

"  I  don't  think  you  can,"  said  Number  Two,  calmly. 

The  poor  darkey  saw  that  his  "  stamps"  were  gone. 
Still,  he  tried  it  once  more.  He  shook  the  lock — and 
something  loose  within  rattled  with  a  taunting  sound, 
tapped  it  against  the  capstan,  pulled  at  the  bolt, 
pressed  the  delusive  spring,  pulled  and  pressed,  again 
and  again.  All  was  in  vain.  He  gave  it  up ;  but,  0, 
with  what  a  poor  grace!  and  handed  the  lock  to 
Number  Two. 

11 1  b'lieve  dah's  som'in'  wrong  about  it,"  said  he. 

"It  seems, I've  won  the  money," Number  Two  ob« 


HOW  NOT  TO  OPEN  A  PATENT  LOCK.   249 

served,  carelessly ;  and  Number  One  handed  him  the 
two  hundred  dollars. 

Another  laugh  went  round.  0,  the  heartlessness 
of  human  beings  !  What  they  would  regard  as  a  grave 
misfortune,  if  it  happened  to  themselves,  they  look 
upon  as  an  excellent  joke  when  another  is  the  victim. 

"  Dat's  nuffin,"  said  the  darkey,  trying  to  appear 
unconcerned.     But,  O,  how  poorly  he  succeeded ! 

"  Nothing,  when  you  get  used  to  it  once,"  observed 
one  of  the  spectators,  soothingly. 

"  But  it  takes  a  fellow  a  deuce  of  a  time  to  get  used 
to  it,"  put  in  another  unfeeling  passenger. 

Poor  darkey  turned  away,  as  sad  a  picture  as  I  ever 
saw,  went  and  took  a  seat  on  the  capstan,  and  tried  to 
whistle  a  careless  tune.  But  his  clumsy  lips  were 
dry  and  unsteady,  and  he  couldn't  get  them  puckered 
in  any  sort  of  shape. 

11  Confound  if  I  haven't  come  near  forgetting  my 
valise,  with  this  fooling,"  said  Number  Two,  abruptly, 
after  he  had  stowed  away  his  money.  "I  left  it  up  in 
Quincy,  and  must  go  and  get  it."  So,  he  walked 
down  the. gangway  plank,  up  the  wharf,  and  dis- 
appeared in  the  city. 

"I  wouldn't  be  surprised  if  that  fellow  were  a 
regular  rogue,"  observed  Number  One,  gazing  after 
him.  "I  intend  to  keep  my  eye  on  him."  And  he, 
too,  went  ashore. 

Soon  after,  the  boat  backed  out  from  the  landing, 
and  proceeded  up  the  river ;  but  neither  Number  One 
nor  Number  Two  were  among  the  passengers. 


250  JOHN   SMITH    ON   A   CRUTCH. 


CHAPTER    XXXIV. 

A    Game  of  Checkef^s. 

TN  traveling  up  the  Mississippi  river,  I  could  not 
help  remarking  that  the  Illinois  shore  was,  with 
/  but  few  exceptions,  very  low — in  many  places  not 
more  than  a  foot  or  two  above  ordinary  water,  and, 
in  some  places,  even  submerged ;  while  the  western 
shore — that  of  Missouri  and  Iowa — was,  with  some 
exceptions,  reasonably  high. 

Illinois  is  a  low,  swampy  State,  nearly  all  over.  I 
have  visited  all  portions  of  it,  both  the  borders  and 
the  interior;  and,  excepting  the  vicinity  of  Peoria, 
and  some  few  bluffs  along  the  Mississippi  river,  the 
ground  is  low,  flat,  marshy,  and  evidently  anything 
but  salubrious.  The  soil,  however,  is  as  rich  as  any 
in  the  world;  and  things  grow  there  in  a  way  that 
would  be  quite  novel  to  an  eastern  man.  By  and  by, 
it  will  be  drained,  grow  more  healthy,  and,  perhaps, 
become  the  richest  and  most  desirable  State  of  the 
Mississippi  Valley. 

The  most  beautiful  land  I  ever  saw  any  where,  was 
in  Iowa,  between  Davenport,  on  the  Mississippi  shore, 
and  Iowa  City,  in  the  interior.  It  is  difficult  to  look 
upon  that  garden-like  land,  when  clothed  in  its 
dress  of  summer,  without  actually  breaking  forth  in 


A   GAME   OF    CHECKERS.  251 

words  of  admiration.  It  is  slightly  rolling — just 
enough  so  to  relieve  it  from  excess  of  water — the  view 
is  little  obstructed  by  timber;  and  one  can  stand  on  a 
somewhat  elevated  point,  and  see  for  eight  or  ten 
miles  in  any  direction — see  the  smooth  green  fields 
spread  out  before  him,  like  the  face  of  the  ocean,  till 
they  fade  in  dimness  and  kiss  the  blue  sky  at  the  dis- 
tant horizon ! 

But,  in  winter,  stay  away  from  these  regions,  with 
all  their  beauty,  unless  you  are  fond  of  being  frozen  ; 
for  the  winter  winds  there  can  split  a  tough  white-oak 
into  rails,  in  no  time,  and  fire  itself  couldn't  .stand  it 
long  out-of-doors,  without  being  frozen  into  icicles. 
Even  their  thermometers  cannot  stand  it  out-of-doors. 
They  are  obliged  to  hang  them  by  the  stove  or  fire- 
place— where  they  make  it  a  point  to  keep  the  tem- 
perature of  the  air  as  high  as  twenty-five  or  thirty  de- 
grees be7ow  zero. 

But  this  is  a  digression  I  did  not  intend. 

At  Keokuk,  I  stayed  all  night,  and,  next  morning, 
took  an  early  train  for  Fort  Madison,  a  flourishing 
town  situated  at  the  head  of  the  Rapids,  twenty-five 
miles  above  Keokuk.  Not  every  one  is  aware  that 
the  navigation  of  the  Mississippi  is  obstructed  for 
some  miles  above  Keokuk,  by  extensive  rapids,  in  the 
course  of  which  the  water  falls  considerably.  Yet 
such  is  the  case.  To  obviate  the  difficulty,  a  railroad 
has  been  constructed  from  Keokuk  to  Fort  Madison, 
where  the  traveler  takes  another  boat  up  the  river. 
When  the  water  is  high,  however,  boats  of  any  size 
go  over  the  rapids,  as  they  do  over  the  Falls  of  the 
Ohio  at  Louisville.  • 


252  JOHN   SMITH   ON   A   CRUTCH. 

In  the  car,  a  gentleman,  who  was  a  native  of  Iowa, 
occupied  the  same  seat  with  me.  Noticing  that  I  had 
a  checker-board  in  my  hand,  which  I  had  taken  out 
of  my  trunk  while  on  board  the  boat,  the  previous 
day,  he  said : 

"  Do  you  play  checkers  ?" 

"  A  little,"  I  replied.    "  Do  you  ?" 

"I  don't  often  get  beat,"  was  his  modest  (?)  rejoin- 
der. 

"  Will  you  take  the  boat  at  Fort  Madison  ?" 

"Yes." 

"  Then,  if  you  desire,  we  will  play  a  game  or  two, 
when  we  get  aboard." 

"I  was  just  about  to  make  the  same  proposition," 
he  returned. 

The  train  had  not  proceeded  far,  when,  as  we  were 
passing  a  saw-mill,  we  saw  a  man,  who  had  charge  of 
a  yoke  of  oxen,  standing,  with  open  mouth,  gazing 
upon  the  train,  and  staring  the  very  locomotive  out 
of  countenance.  He  was  one  of  the  homeliest  men  I 
ever  saw.  My  companion  and  I  had  had  some  con- 
versation with  two  lively  young  ladies,  who  occupied 
the  seat  in  front  of  us,  and  one  of  them  remarked  : 

11  What  a  singular-looking  man  !" 

The  other  laughed. 

"  He  isn't  a  very  pretty  man,  is  he  ?"  said  I. 

"  No,"  retorted  my  male  companion,  who  probably 
thought  this  (because  he  knew  me  to  be  from  Penn- 
sylvania,) a  thrust  at  Iowa  generally,  "  he  looks  like 
a  Pennsylvanian."  This,  he  certainly  meant  for  a 
hit  at  the  old  Keystone  State. 

I  said  nothing,  however,  but  silently  determined  ,tp 


A   GAME   OF    CHECKERS.  253 

have  revenge  at  checkers,  when  we  should  get  on  the 
boat — unless  my  companion  should  prove  to  be  a  re- 
markable player. 

So,  when  we  had  embarked  at  Fort  Madison,  and 
were  gliding  up  the  river.  I  saw  the  Iowa  gentleman 
sauntering  through  the  cabin,  and  said : 

"  Are  you  ready  for  that  game  of  checkers  ?" 
"  0,  yes,"  he  replied ;  "  I  was  looking  for  you." 
We  sat  down  by  one  of  the  tables,  arranged  the 
board  and  "  men,"  and  went  at  it.  He  moved  with 
much  circumspection,  and  was  very  careful  lest  he 
should  make  a  blander.  But,  with  all  his  caution,  he 
soon  made  one,  which  I  quickly  saw  ;  and  I  gave  him 
one  of  my  men,  took  three  of  his  in  exchange,  and 
hopped  into  the  king-row. 

"Pshaw!"  he  exclaimed,  in  a  tone  of  vexation.  "I 
wasn't  watching!" 

I  soon  won  that  game,  and  he  didn't  get  a  king. 
"  Let's  try  it  again,"  said  he.    "  I  will  do  better  next 
time." 

"  I  hope  so,"  I  replied,  as  we  replaced  the  men — 
but  I  didnH  hope  so. 

This  time  he  moved  with  more  care  than  ever,  and 
succeeded — in  getting  beaten  as  badly  as  before. 

He  tried  it  again  and  again,  till  we  had  played 
eight  games,  and  I  had  won  two-thirds  of  a  dozen  of 
them. 

"  I  will  not  play  any  more,"  he  said,  petulantly,  as 
he  arose  from  the  table.  "I  never  met  with  such  a 
player." 

"  I  play  the  Pennsylvania  game,"  I  complacently 
observed. 


254  JOHN    SMITH   ON   A   CRUTCH. 

I  landed  at  Muscatine,  Iowa,  that  evening,  where  I 
remained  all  night.  Muscatine  is  about  thirty  miles 
below  Davenport,  and  is  called  a  city.  Its  population 
is  eight  or  ten  thousand. 

Next  morning,  I  took  an  early  train  for  Wilton,  a 
flourishing  town  situated  at  the  intersection  of  two 
railroads,  in  the  interior  of  the  State.  I  visited  some 
relatives  there,  and  passed  a  week  or  two  with  them 
very  pleasantly. 


JOHN   IN   CHICAGO.  255 


CHAPTER     XXXV. 

John   in    Chicago. 

T^  ARLY  in  July,  having  visited  various  sections 
T_y  of  Iowa,  I  started  one  evening  for  Chicago, 
/  where  I  arrived  next  morning  about  daylight — 
the  distance  from  Wilton  being  a  little  over  two  hun- 
dred miles. 

Chicago  is  styled  the  "Garden  City,"  because 
handsome  private  gardens  are  attached  to  many  of 
the  residences.  There  are  other  cities,  however, 
which,  for  the  same  reason,  are  equally  entitled  to 
the  sobriquet. 

Chicago  is  much  the  largest  city  of  the  northwest. 
It  has  sprung  up  faster  than  any  other,  and  has  now 
a  population  of  about  two  hundred  and  ten  thousand. 
It  is  situated  in  North-eastern  Illinois,  on  the  shore 
of  Lake  Michigan.  It  is  one  of  the  liveliest  cities  in 
the  country,  and  must  always  be  the  largest  city  of 
the  Mississippi  Valley,  except  Saint  Louis,  which  will 
naturally  stand  number  one,  on  account  of  the  nu- 
merous advantages  of  its  position. 

An  appropriate  sobriquet  for  Chicago,  I  think, 
would  be  "City  of  Boards"— because  it  is  built 
chiefly  of  boards.  Most  of  the  houses  are  frame 
buildings,  weather-boarded ;  the  sidewalks  are  nearly 


256  JOHN   SMITH   ON   A    CRUTCH. 

all  composed  of  thick  pine  boards ;  and  the  streets 
are  paved  with  the  u  Nicholson  pavement."  The 
sidewalks  are  raised  some  feet  above  what  was  once 
the  original  height  of  the  ground,  leaving  many  dirty 
caverns  beneath — an  arrangement  highly  gratifying 
to  the  rats.  The  rat  population  of  Chicago  is  sup- 
posed to  amount  to  about  one  hundred  to  each  in- 
habitant of  the  genus  homo,  which  would  make  their 
whole  number  about  twenty-one  millions.  As  Josh 
Billings  remarks,  "  This  shows  at  a  glance  how  many 
waste  rats  there  is."  They  are  very  playful,  espec- 
ially about  eleven  o'clock,  when  one  is  going  home 
from  the  theater.  One  night,  returning  from  Crosby's 
Opera  House,  I  counted  all  I  saw  on  my  way  to  my 
lodging-house.  I  had  but  three  or  four  squares  to 
go,  however,  and  therefore  only  counted  eighteen. 
Of  these,  I  succeeded  in  knocking  only  two  over  with 
my  cane,  by  way  of  amusement. 

As  I  had  done  in  Cincinnati  and  Saint  Louis,  I 
hired  a  lodging-room,  and  took  my  meals  at  a  restau- 
rant. The  room  was  a  very  good  one,  in  a  house  on 
Dearborn  street,  opposite  the  Post  office. 

I  spent  some  weeks  quite  pleasantly  in  the  "  Gar- 
den City,"  during  which,  the  only  very  funny  thing 
that  happened  to  me,  was  my  nearly  getting  drowned 
in  Lake  Michigan.  My  love  of  rowing  led  to  this. 
On  a  beautiful  moonlight  evening,  two  young  ladies, 
and  a  young  gentleman  who  lived  in  the  same  house, 
went  down  with  me  to  the  lake,  and  wre  hired  a  row- 
boat. 

We  seated  ourselves  comfortably  in  the  boat — I 
taking  the  oars — glided  away  from  the  shore,  and 


JOHN   IK   CHICAGO.  257 

were  soon  outside  of  the  breakwater,  where  the  full 
moon,  rising  in  the  eastern  sky,  made  an  endless  path 
of  quivering  and  shining  silver  over  the  limpid  waves. 
The  air  was  still,  balmy  and  pleasant  on  the  water. 
But  the  wind  had  been  blowing  that  day,  the  waters 
were  agitated,  and  the  waves  rolled  considerably. 
"When  we  were  two  miles  from  shore,  we  lay-to  for  a 
time ;  and  while  the  waves  rocked  us  about,  in  a 
playful  manner,  the  two  young  ladies  and  the  gentle- 
man— I  never  sing — sung  a  beautiful  song,  which, 
the  murmuring  of  the  lake  blending  with  it,  and  the 
beauty  of  the  evening,  rendered  quite  enchanting. 
When  they  ceased  singing,  one  of  the  young  ladies 
said : 

"  I  wonder  if  I  could  row  ?" 

"  I  have  no  doubt  of  it,"  I  responded ;  "  did  you 
ever  try  it  ?" 

"No,  never." 

"  Then,"  I  rejoined,  "  it  is  possible  you  are  an  ex- 
cellent rower,  and  have  never  given  yourself  an 
opportunity  to  discover  it.     Will  you  try  it  ?" 

"  I'm  afraid,"  she  said,  timidly. 

"Nothing  to  fear,"  I  urged;  "the  oars  are  sta- 
tionary in  the  row-locks,  and  you  cannot  lose  them. 
Moreover,  there  is  no  wind  or  tide,  and  the  boat  can- 
not run  away  with  you." 

Thus  encouraged,  she  said  "  I  believe  I'll  try  it." 

"  Then  let  us  exchange  seats,"  said  I. 

"  Well." 

She  was  sitting  aft,  and  as  we  moved  to  exchange 
seats,  we  awkwardly  attempted  to  pass  each  other  on 
the  same  side  of  the  boat  thus  throwing  too  much 
17 


258  JOHN"    SMITH    ON    A   CRUTCH. 

weight  on  the  port  gunwale,  and  destroying  the  equi- 
librium of  the  boat  and  all  the  crew.  Just  then,  too, 
a  fine,  fresh,  unusually  large  wave  came  rolling  along. 
The  lady  caught  at  the  side  of  the  boat  as  she  lost 
her  balance,  but  missed  it,  and  pitched  out !  The 
boat  dipped  ;  the  wave  swept  over,  nearly  filling  it 
with  the  pure  waters  of  the  lake ;  and  a  wild  scream 
of  terror  from  the  other  lady  lent  interest  to  the 
scene. 

I  seized  the  unfortunate  one  in  time,  dragged  her 
into  the  boat  and  called  quickly  to  the  gentleman  to 
go  to  bailing,  and  never  mind  the  price  of  hats.  He 
wore  a  fine  silk  castor  that  held  a  gallon  or  so,  and  it 
was  refreshing  to  see  the  way  he  began  bailing  with  it. 
I  hastily  turned  the  head  of  the  boat  toward  the 
waves,  and  we  rose  with  the  next  one.  Managing  to 
keep  her  straight  with  one  oar,  I  took  my  "  beaver  " 
in  the  other  hand,  and  went  to  bailing  for  dear  life. 
Meantime,  the  two  ladies  were  trembling  with  terror, 
one  of  them  coughing,  sneezing  and  strangling,  too — 
and  uttering  brief  impromptu  prayers,  such  as  "Lord, 
save  us  !"  and  the  like. 

I  assured  them  there  was  not  the  slightest  danger — 
that  the  water  was  not  deep  there  anyhow,  that  I 
could  reach  the  bottom  Avith  an  ordinary  poker — I 
meant  by  jumping  out  and  diving  with  it,  though — 
and  I  succeeded  in  restoring  their  nerves  to  something 
like  composure. 

As  we  were  all  soaking  wet,  from  top  to  toe — and 
especially  the  young  lady  who  had  taken  an  invol- 
untary dive  into  the  deep-green  waters— we  began 
to  steer  for  the  "  Garden  City ;"  which  we  reacted 


JOHN   IN  CHICAGO.  259 

with  thankful  hearts,  wet  clothes  and  hats  utterly 
ruined. 

As  the  others  stepped  out  of  the  boat  before  me, 
I  observed  that,  with  the  exception  of  my  person,  it 
was  entirely  empty,  and  said : 

"  Where  in  the  deuce  is  my  crutch  ?" 

"  Isn't  it  in  the  boat  ?"  responded  the  young  gentle- 
man, who  stood  on  the  shore. 

I  will  never  forget  the  picture  he  presented,  as  he 
stood  there  in  the  moonlight.  His  ruined  hat  was  on 
his  head,  and  it  had  lost  all  its  stiffening,  the  nap 
was  no  longer  sleek,  smooth  and  shiny,  but  was 
rumpled  and  crooked,  and  stuck  out  in  all  directions ; 
while  the  now  pliable  crown  was  crushed  down  till  it 
rested  ou  his  cranium,  like  a  wet  dishcloth  laid  on  the 
top  of  his  head,  and  looked  as  though  it  had  been 
beaten  down  by  a  terrific  hail-storm.  The  dull,  life- 
less, lead-like  way  in  which  his  garments  hung  about 
him  may  be  imagined. 

"Your  crutch  ?"  said  he.  "  Can  it  be  possible  that 
it  fell  out  when  the  boat  tipped  ?" 

"  Blazes  !"  I  exclaimed.     "  How  will  I  get  home  ?" 

I  might  have  hopped  all  the  way — four  squares — 
but  that  novel  mode  of  locomotion  would  have 
attracted  public  attention  and  placed  me  in  an  undig- 
nified light. 

"Here  it  is,"  said  one  of  the  girls,  laughing.  "I 
took  it  out  when  I  left  the  boat."  And,  much  to  my 
relief  and  delight,  she  handed  it  to  me. 

The  other  }roung  lady  also  handed  me  my  cane, 
which  she  had  picked  up  on  leaving  the  boat. 

You  had  better  believe  I  was  glad,  if  you  are  fond 


260  JOHN  SMITH   ON   A   CRUTCH. 

of  being  correct  in  your  opinion,  for  I  was  just 
making  up  my  mind  to  row  out  upon  the  Lake  again, 
and  look  for  my  crutch,  as  I  thought  it  possible  I 
might  find  it  floating  about  somewhere.  I  would 
have  had  a  wide  bit  of  territory  to  canvass. 


TBAVELING  COMPANIONS.  261 


CHAPTER     XXXVI. 

Traveling    Companions. 

A  BOUT  the  middle  of  July,  I  resolved  to  return 
yl  to  Philadelphia  before  completing  my  tour; 
/  and  one  evening  I  took  an  express  train  for 
Pittsburg,  via  the  Pittsburg,  Fort  Wayne  and  Chicago 
Railroad.  The  train  was  not  crowded,  and  each 
passenger  in  the  car  I  was  in  had  a  whole  seat  to 
himself. 

We  had  traveled  about  a  hundred  miles,  and  were 
rolling  across  the  State  of  Indiana,  in  the  darkness  of 
night,  when  two  persons  got  on  at  a  station,  some- 
where, came  to  the  middle  of  the  car,  and  one  took  a 
seat  beside  me,  while  the  other  sat  immediately  in 
front.  I  glanced  casually  at  my  companion,  and  had 
not  the  slightest  difficulty  in  making  out  that  he  was 
a  sharper. 

"  This  is  a  fine  evening,"  he  said  to  me,  politely, 
as  the  train  thundered  onward. 

"Very,"  I  replied. 

Let  it  be  borne  in  mind,  however,  that  he  had  no 
special  reason  for  stating,  nor  I  for  agreeing,  that  it 
was  a  "fine  evening."  On  the  contrary,  it  was  dark 
and  cloudy,  and  looked  like  rain. 

"How  far  are  you  going?"  he  asked. 


262  JOHN   SMITH   ON  A   CRUTCH. 

"  To  Philadelphia,"  I  frankly  replied. 

"Ah?     So  ami." 

"  Do  you  live  there  ?"  I  queried. 

"  No  ;  but  I  have  an  uncle  there — a  merchant M 

"What  street  ?"  I  asked,  pertly. 

"Why— I— 0,  yes!  Market  street."  He  then 
changed  the  subject,  and  said :  "  I  see  you  have  lost 
a  leg." 

"  Yes,"  I  assented. 

"  In  the  war,  I  suppose  ?" 

"  Yes." 

"  Ah  !''  he  pursued,  with  earnestness,  "  many  noble 
youths  have  made  this  sacrifice  for  their  country,  and 
I  hope  they  will  never  be  forgotten." 

"I  hope  so,  truly,"  I  replied. 

"  I  know,"  he  went  on,  "  that  you  must  find  it  very 
inconvenient  traveling,  in  your  condition — especially 
when  it  comes  to  changing  cars,  and  the  like — and  I 
was  going  to  suggest  that  I  would  remain  with  you 
till  we  reach  Philadelphia,  and  render  you  any 
assistance " 

"Thank  you,"  I  interrupted.  "The  truth  is,  I 
used  to  get  around  very  clumsily,  when  I  had  two 
feet  to  take  care  of;  but  now,  having  got  rid  of  one 
of  the  encumbrances,  I  get  about  astonishingly  well. 
If  you  knew  how  convenient  it  is  to  have  but  one  leg 
to  take  care  of,  you  wouldn't  retain  both  yours  a  week. 
You'd  have  one  of  them  sawed  off,  sir.  You  would 
indeed." 

Mr.  Sharper  began  to  see  that  I  wasn't  his  man,  and 
he  presently  got  up  and  took  a  seat  just  in  front  of 
his  pal.     On  the  same  seat  was  a  young  man  who 


TRAVELING   COMPANIONS.  263 

evidently  had  not  made  a  regular  business  of  traveling, 
and  with  him  Mr.  Sharper  struck  up  an  animated  con- 
versation, soon  gaining  his  confidence.  By  and  by, 
he  introduced  a  very  curious  puzzle,  with  two  cups 
and  ivory  balls,  which  he  said  he  had  bought  that 
day  from  an  Italian  peddler  with  one  eye,  who  had 
lost  a  brother  and  two  wives  in  a  storm  at  sea,  on  his 
way  to  this  country.  I  was  not  near  enough  to  see 
the  exact  construction  of  the  cups  and  balls;  but  it 
was  not  long  before  he  got  up  a  bet  about  them, 
with  the  green  traveler.  His  confederate,  sitting  on 
the  seat  between  him  and  me,  still  pretending  to  be  a 
stranger  to  him,  made  a  sham  bet  of  thirty  dollars, 
and  the  other  man  on  the  same  seat — also  a  man  who 
had  never  been  sharpened  on  the  grindstone  of  ex- 
perience— bet  fifteen  dollars.  The  money  was  put  up 
in  the  hands  of  a  passenger,  and,  of  course,  Sharper 
won.  He  and  his  confederate  got  off  at  the  next 
station,  each  about  twenty  dollars  "in;"  leaving  a 
couple  of  foolish  passengers  so  much  poorer,  and,  it  is 
to  be  hoped,  so  much  wiser. 

Eeader,  in  your  travels,  beware  of  friendly  strangers. 
John  Smith  always  bewares  of  'em,  and  it  pays. 

A  description  of  a  forty  hours'  ride  by  railroad, 
would  prove  as  tiresome  to  the  reader  as  the  ride 
always  does  to  me.  It  is  a  delightful  thing,  in  fine 
weather,  to  take  a  ride  of  fifty  or  a  hundred  miles  on 
a  train  ;  to  see  the  fields,  and  houses,  and  gardens,  and 
barns,  and  woods,  and  fences  flying  past  you,  and  to 
feel  that  lightning  would  get  tired  before  it  could 
catch  you:  but  when  you  have  to  ride  a  thousand 


264         JOHN  SMITH  ON  A  CRUTCH. 

miles,  as  I  have  often  done,  the  thing  becomes  fright- 
fully monotonous,  and  is  any  thing  but  a  pastime. 

Especially  when  night  comes  does  the  ride  grow 
tiresome.  As  for  sleeping-cars,  I  have  long  since 
vetoed  them,  as  far  as  I  am  concerned.  I  decide  that 
they  are  a  nuisance,  and  I  believe  the  majority  of 
travelers  will  ratify  and  endorse  my  decision — and 
thus  render  it  legal.  I  never  slept  in  one  yet,  that  I 
did  not  suffer  all  the  time,  either  from  heat  or  cold. 
Such  a  thing  as  an  even  or  moderate  temperature,  I 
never  experienced  in  a  sleeping-car.  Then  the  space  1 
To  be  stuffed,  as  tight  as  the  wad  in  a  pop-gun,  into 
a  narrow  cell,  which  they  honor  with  the  appellation 
of  "  berth,"  a  cell  so  narrow  as  to  evoke  unpleasant 
contemplations  of  the  anticipated  long  and  narrow 
home  we  must  all  go  to;  so  narrow  and  contracted 
that  you  haven't  room  for  your  elbows ;  so  narrow  that 
you  can't  turn  over  without  getting  out  upon  the  floor 
for  the  purpose;  so  narrow  and  close  that,  as  you  lie 
on  your  back,  you  are  afraid  to  wink,  lest  you  should 
scrape  your  eyelids  against  the  ceiling  above  you  and 
break  the  lashes  off:  to  be  crammed  into  a  place  like 
this,  I  say,  with  an  implied  promise  of  repose,  is  the 
opposite  extreme  of  extraordinary  felicity  ! 

However,  occupying  a  seat  in  a  car,  for  a  whole 
night,  is  no  delicacy,  either;  although  I  prefer  it  to 
the  "  berth."  How  frequently  one  consults  his  time- 
piece on  such  an  occasion  1  I  look  at  my  watch,  and 
iind  it,  say,  twelve  o'clock,  P.  M.  Then  I  recline  on 
my  seat  and  try  to  steal  a  little  sleep.  At  first,  I  feel 
quite  comfortable,  and  fancy  I  can  sleep  in  that  posi- 
tion for  several  hours.     But  scarcely  have  I  time  to 


TRAVELING   COMPANIONS.  265 

draw  a  breath,  before  I  find  that  my  head  does  not  rest 
quite  comfortably  against  the  window-sill  or  the  back 
of  the  seat ;  I  move  it  slightly ;  then  I  find  that  my 
arm  is  going  asleep;  I  move  it;  then  my  ankle  is 
twisted  ;  I  move  it;  then  I  find  that  my  whole  body 
is  out  of  shape ;  I  move,  turn  round  and  lie  with  my 
head  the  other  way ;  then  I  close  my  eyes,  and  doze  ; 
I  wake,  presently,  with  a  start;  find  my  nose  itching, 
and  my  leg  asleep  and  beginning  to  tingle  as  though 
ten  million  insects  were  swarming  in  it ;  I  then  rub 
my  eyes,  think  an  hour  has  passed,  look  at  my  watch, 
and  find  it  thirteen  minutes  after  eleven.  Find  I 
made  a  mistake  of  an  hour  when  I  looked  the  other 
time. 

At  last,  the  night  has  dragged  itself  away ;  and, 
0,  how  welcome  are  the  tips  of  morning's  "  rosy 
wings,"  as  they  flutter  upon  the  horizon  among  the 
hills  or  over  the  plains!  How  welcome  are  the  gray 
streaks  that  play  in  the  east,  ushering  glorious  morn- 
ing upon  the  skies  !  How  welcome  the  green  fields 
again,  as  the  curtain  of  the  gloomy  night  is  lifted  from 
the  face  of  Nature !  I  involuntarily  exclaim  with 
Shakspeare : 

"  Look  what  streaks 
Do  lace  the  severing  clouds  in  yonder  East ! 
Night's  candles  are  put  out ;  and  jocund  day 
Stands  tiptoe  on  the  misty  mountain  top." 


266         JOHN  SMITH  ON  A  CRUTCH. 


CHAPTER    XXXVI  l. 

Milwaukee   and   the   Lakes. 

T  REMAINED  in  Philadelphia  a  month,  then  re- 
|  turned  to  Chicago,  in  order  to  begin  where  I  left 
/  off  and  finish  my  tour.  I  only  remained  in  the 
"Garden  City"  long  enough  to  give  my  old  friends 
there  a  call,  and  to  get  a  slight  attack  of  cholera ;  then 
moved  northward.  I  went  by  railroad  to  Milwaukee, 
Wisconsin,  a  city  with  a  population  of  sixty  thousand, 
situated  on  the  shore  of  Lake  Michigan,  about  ninety 
miles  from  Chicago. 

Milwaukee  is  remarkable  for  at  least  three  things. 
First,  it  is  built,  almost  exclusively,  of  a  kind  of 
yellow  brick  that  presents  a  neat  appearance  I  much 
admire.  Second,  the  German  element  predominates 
in  the  population.  In  fact,  I  believe  that  fully  three- 
fourths  of  the  inhabitants  are  Germans.  Third,  the 
lager-beer  there  is  of  a  superior  quality.  So  superior 
is  it,  that  it  deserves  more  than  a  passing  remark.  It 
is  everywhere  conceded  among  intelligent  persons, 
that  Milwaukee  produces  the  best  lager-beer  that  is 
made  in  this  country.  It  has  such  extraordinary 
"  body."  It  has  none  of  that  resin-soap-and-old-boot 
taste,  which  we  frequently  have  the  misfortune  to 
discover  in  beer ;  but  is  the  pure,  unadulterated,  un- 


MILWAUKEE   AND  THE   LAKES.  267 

sophisticated  lager-beer,  even  such  as  nature  intended 
it  should  be,  when  she  produced  the  grain,  hops  and 
water  to  make  it  of.  Beside,  they  give  a  fellow  such 
a  large  glass  there  for  five  cents !  The  glass  holds 
about  a  pint.  I  confess  that  I  felt  conscience-stricken 
whenever  I  took  one,  and  only  paid  five  cents  for  it. 
That  was  the  price,  however.  I  would  have  offered 
more,  only  I  feared  that  I  might  be  thought  verdant; 
and  John  Smith  does  not  desire  to  rest  under  such  an 
imputation. 

Early  in  September,  I  embarked  for  Detroit,  Michi- 
gan, on  the  St.  Louis,  a  handsome  lake  propeller, 
running  between  Chicago  and  Buffalo.  Our  route 
was  via  Lake  Michigan,  Fort  Mackinaw,  (in  the 
straits,)  Lake  Huron,  the  St.  Clair  river,  Lake  St. 
Clair  and  the  Detroit  river.  If  you  will  take  the 
trouble  to  glance  at  a  map  of  the  United  States,  dear 
reader,  you  will  perceive  that  Lakes  Huron  and 
Michigan  are  two  parallel  lakes  running  north  and 
south,  and  that  they  curve  round  and  intersect  each 
other  at  the  north,  forming  an  inverted  letter  U. 

I  look  back  upon  my  voyage  on  the  Lakes,  as  the 
pleasantest  of  my  life.  Our  vessel  was  a  first-class 
steamer,  the  passengers  were  all  jolly  and  good- 
natured,  taken  collectively  ;  the  ladies  were  amiable, 
affable  and  beautiful ;  and  the  gentleman  were  sober, 
intelligent,  agreeable,  and  good  judges  of  beer. 

I  will  never  forget  my  first  evening  on  board  the 
St.  Louis.  We  were  steering  N.  N.  E.  the  western 
shore  had  just  faded  from  view,  and  the  sun  was 
sinking  into  his  rosy  couch.  A  few  light  clouds 
hung  over  the  horizon,  like  crimson  and  purple  cur- 


268  JOHN   SMITH    ON   A   CRUTCH. 

tains,  as  the  god  of  day  sunk  into  his  luxuriant  bed 
of  rest,  reminding  one  of  McDonald  Clark's  beautiful 

lines : 

"  Now  twilight  lets  her  curtain  down 

And  pins  it  with  a  star." 

The  lake  was  nearly  smooth,  and  the  red  light, 

making  its  lengthy  paths  over  the  wide  waters,  from 

west  to  east,  looked  like  myriads  of  playful  little 

flames  chasing  each   other   over   the   crests   of  the 

o 

waves. 

The  sun  rose  next  morning  and  smiled  on  us  over 
the  north-western  shore  of  the  State  of  Michigan,  and 
we  found  ourselves  approaching  Mackinaw  Straits. 
That  afternoon  the  vessel  laid  for  a  couple  of  hours  at 
an  island  in  the  Straits,  and  the  passengers  all  went 
ashore.  We  discovered  the  earth  to  be  about  as 
nearly  barren  as  any  soil  could  be.  Late  as  it  was  in 
the  season,  September,  we  found  a  few  stunted  rasp- 
berries, that  were  just  making  a  feeble  effort  to  ripen. 

"While  the  propeller  lay  there,  half-a-dozen  of  the 
male  passengers,  I  among  them,  hired  a  sailboat,  and, 
accompanied  by  three  or  four  of  the  lady  passengers, 
took  a  pleasant  sail  of  an  hour.  I  think  1  never  saw 
such  clear  water  anywhere  as  I  saw  there.  A  pin 
could  have  been  distinctly  seen  at  the  depth  of  twenty 
feet.  I  was  so  charmed  with  the  limpid  water,  and 
the  white  sand  and  pebbles  at  the  bottom,  that  I 
fancied  it  would  have  been  almost  a  luxury  to  be 
drowned  there. 

That  night  we  stopped  for  an  hour  at  Fort  Macki- 
naw. 

Next  morning — Sunday  morning — we  found  our- 


MILWAUKEE   AND  THE   LAKES.  269 

selves  in  Lake  Huron.  Another  beautiful  day  passed 
away  in  perfect  harmony  and  happiness  on  board  the 
St.  Louis,  and  another  night  came.  All  this  time  the 
propeller  glided  along  so  smoothly  that  one  could 
scarcely  believe,  at  times,  that  she  moved  at  all,  till 
he  should  go  out,  look  over  the  side,  and  see  the 
green  waters  rushing  by,  and  the  waves  receding  from 
the  prow  on  either  side.  I  never  slept  anywhere 
more  tranquilly  than  on  board  the  St.  Louis. 

Next  morning,  we  found  ourselves  in  the  St.  Clair 
river,  which  runs  north  and  south,  and  connects  Lake 
Iluron  with  Lake  St.  Clair.  On  its  eastern  shore  is 
Canada,  and  on  its  western  the  State  of  Michigan. 

About  nine  o'clock,  we  landed  at  the  town  of  New- 
port, Michigan,  the  home  of  the  captain.  Being 
assured  by  him  that  she  would  lie  there  several 
hours,  another  passenger  and  myself  went  ashore  and 
walked  up  into  the  town,  with  the  view  of  hunting  a 
billiard-table  and  playing  a  game  or  two.  Some 
others  also  went  ashore  for  a  stroll. 

We  found  one,  and  played  one  game.  I  do  not 
remember  who  won  it.  What  happened  shortly  after 
was  calculated  to  rub  out  trifles  from  one's  memory. 

"Now,"  said  I,  when  we  had  finished  the  game, 
"we  had' better  go.  Something  tells  me  we  will  not 
have  time  to  play  another." 

"  O,  pshaw !"  replied  my  companion.  "Didn't  the 
captain  tell  us  the  boat  would  lie  here  several  hours?" 

"  True,  but  I  cannot  help  feeling  uneasy." 

"  0,  nonsense  !  let's  play  another." 

We  commenced  another  game,  and  had  each  made 


270  JOHN   SMITH   ON  A   CRUTCH. 

fifteen  or  twenty  points,  when  another  fit  of  uneasi- 
ness seized  me. 

"  Come,"  said  I,  something  tells  me  the  boat  is 
ready  to  leave  ;  I'll  give  you  this  game.     Let  us  go." 

"  0,  there's  no  danger  of  the  boat's  going,"  he  re 
plied.     "  It  will  whistle  first,  anyhow." 

We  played  about  seven  minutes  longer,  when  a 
boy  came  in. 

"  Bub,"  said  I,  "  is  the  St.  Louis  lying  at  the  land- 
ing yet?" 

"  Why,"  he  replied,  "did  you  'uns,  intend  to  go  on 
her?" 

"  Yes,"  said  I. 

"Yonder  she  goes  I"  he  said,  coolly,  as  he  pointed 
out  the  window  looking  down  the  river. 

Yes,  the  St.  Louis  had  gone,  and  was  just  disap- 
pearing round  a  bend  nearly  half  a  milo  distant. 

If  the  reader  wants  to  know  what  pure,  unalloyed 
anguish  is,  I  can  tell  him  that  I  experienced  it  on 
this  occasion.  There  I  was,  fifty  miles  from  my  des- 
tination, and  the  propeller,  on  which  I  had  spent 
several  such  happy  days,  gliding  away  and  disappear- 
ing from  my  gaze,  bearing  from  me  the  many  good 
friends  I  had  made  among  the  passengers,  whom  I 
should  now  never,  probably,  see  again,  depriving  me 
of  the  melancholy  pleasure  of  bidding  them  good-by, 
and  also  of  taking  the  address  of  a  handsome  young 
lady  I  fell  in  love  with — to  say  nothing  of  my  trunk, 
and  some  other  articles  I  prized  highly,  scattered 
about  in  my  state-room. 

"  I  told  you  so,"  said  I  to  my  conscience-stricken 
companion. 


MILWAUKEE   AND   THE   LAKES.  271 

He  gazed  from  the  window,  threw  down  his  cue, 
and  pronounced  a  great  many  words,  in  rapid  succes- 
sion, which,  if  found  in  the  Scriptures,  are  not  found 
exactly  in  the  same  order  in  which  he  uttered  them. 
His  case  was  worse  than  mine.  His  destination  was 
Buffalo ;  and  should  we  fail  to  reach  Detroit  ere  the 
propeller  should  leave  there — and  we  had  little  hope 
in  that  direction — he  would  lose  four  hundred  miles 
of  his  ride.  Besides,  he  had  left  his  overcoat  and 
revolver  in  his  state-room,  and  who  should  answer 
for  their  safety  ? 

As  for  me,  my  trunk  was  checked  to  Detroit,  and  I 
felt  sure  that  it  would  be  put  off  there ;  but  in  my 
state-room  were  left  my  chess-board,  a  set  of  chess- 
men, and  other  property,  amounting  in  all  to  the 
value  of  about  fifteen  dollars — and  what  hope  had  I 
of  ever  seeing  them  again?     Kein  ! 

"  Well,"  said  I,  "  let  us  make  the  best  of  it." 

"  Yes,  we  might  as  well  finish  the  game  now,"  said 
he,  ruefully. 

11  First,"  I  proposed,  "  let  us  drown  our  sorrows  in 
a  glass  of  beer." 

11  Agreed,"  said  he. 

And  we  did. 

"There'll  be  another  boat  along  soon,"  observed 
the  boy. 

11  How  soon  ?"  we  both  asked,  eagerly. 

"  It  ought  to  be  here  by  eleven  o'clock  ;  that's  its 
time." 

u  Does  it  run  to  Detroit  ?" 

"  Yes ;  it's  a  little  side-wheeler." 

"  Then  we'll  watch  for  it," 


272  JOHN   SMITH   ON  A    CRUTCH. 

"  If  you  will  give  me  a  glass  of  beer,"  said  the 
boy,  "  I'll  watch  for  it,  and  tell  you  when  it  comes." 

"Very  well,  watch  for  it.  Whenever  you  see  it 
coming,  run  and  tell  us,  and  we'll  give  you  the  beer." 

In  less  than  half  an  hour,  sure  enough,  we  received 
the  welcome  intelligence  that  the  boat  was  corning; 
and,  giving  the  boy  his  beer,  we  hurried  down  to  the 
landing,  and  reached  it  as  the  little  steamer  came  up. 
We  went  aboard,  and  paid  our  fare  to  Detroit — an- 
other net  loss  of  two  dollars — and  she  soon  moved  on 
after  the  St.  Louis.  But  we  soon  saw,  with  sinking 
hearts,  that  her  speed  was  not  equal  to  that  of  the 
propeller. 

When  we  reached  Lake  St.  Clair — a  lake  as  round 
as  a  dollar,  (or  the  city  of  Boston,)  and  twenty-five 
miles  in  diameter — we  fancied  we  could  see  the  St. 
Louis  just  sinking  beneath  the  southern  horizon.  If 
we  did,  we  never  saw  her  again — at  least  /never  did. 
When  we  reached  Detroit,  she  had  been  gone  half  an 
hour.  My  trunk  was  there,  but  my  other  articles 
were  clearly  forfeited. 

My  companion  and  I  got  on  the  ferry-boat,  went 
over  to  Windsor,  Canada,  just  opposite  Detroit,  and 
inquired  when  the  first  train  would  depart  for  Buf- 
falo. We  were  informed  that  an  express-train  would 
go  at  seven.  He  determined  to  go,  and  did  so,  no 
doubt,  arriving  at  Buffalo  a  dozen  hours  in  advance 
of  the  propeller.  I  have  never  heard  of  him  since. 
I  told  him,  when  we  parted,  to  go  to  my  state-room 
when  he  should  reach  the  propeller,  and  take  posses- 
sion of  my  chess-board,  et  cetera,  remarking  that  I 
"  willed"  them  to  him ;  and  I  presume  that  he  did  so. 


MILWAUKEE   AND  THE   LAKES.  273 

The  ci'y  of  Detroit,  where  I  remained  a  week  is 
about  the  size  of  Milwaukee,  Wisconsin,  and  is  the 
largest  city  in  Michigan.     It  was  there  that  Hull  sur- 
rendered to  the  British,  during  the  war  of  1812  •  and 
it  was  there  that  the  Fenians  crossed  into  Canada  and 
frightened  the  Canadians  in  1866.     So  much  for  its 
historical  importance.     Its  sobriquet  is,  "  The  City  of 
the   Straits."     Its   location   on   the   Detroit   river- 
which  is,  more  properly,  a  strait,  connecting  Lake 
St.  Clair  with  Lake  Erie-gives  it  this  name.  Detroit 
is  a  French  word  for  strait. 


13 


274        JOHN  SMITH  OX  A  CRUTCH. 


CHAPTER     XXXVIII. 
Smith  in  search    of  his  Uncle. 

fROM  Detroit,  I  went,  by  railroad,  to  Toledo, 
Ohio,  distant  eighty  or  ninety  miles.  I  stopped 
there  with  the  view  of  visiting  an  uncle  of  mine, 
whom  I  had  never  seen,  and  who  resided  near  a  little 
village  called  Holland,  nine  miles  from  the  city.  I 
inquired  a  whole  day  for  a  village  of  that  name,  but 
no  one  knew  where  it  was.  I  began  to  think  of  offer- 
ino-  a  reward  for  it ;  but  at  last  weni  to  the  post-office, 
where  I  gained  the  desired  information.  I  was  told 
that  Holland  was  a  little  place  on  the  Air  Line  Rail- 
road, and  that  it  was  also— and,  in  fact,  regularly — 
called  Springfield.  I  was  furthermore  told  that  the 
first  train  would  go  at  ten  o'clock  that  night. 

As  I  did  not  contemplate  remaining  long  at  my 
uncle's,  I  left  my  trunk  at  an  hotel  in  Toledo,  and 
went  out  to  Holland,  alias  Springfield,  on  that  ten- 
o'clock  train.  It  happened  to  be  a  naturally  slow 
train,  and,  besides,  it  met  with  a  little  accident  on  the 
way;  so  that  it  was  eleven  o'clock  when  we  reached 
Holland,  which  I  found  to  be  a  little  village,  compris- 
ing a  couple  of  dwelling-houses  and  a  small  grocery- 
store. 

When  I  got  off  the  train,  it  moved  on,  and  I  found 


SMITH   IN   SEARCH   OF   HIS   UNCLE.  275 

myself  standing  beside  the  track,  alone — a  "stranger 
in  a  strange  land,"  at  night-time.  What  was  I  to  do? 
The  village  appeared  to  be  wrapped  in  sleep,  and  not 
a  light  was  to  be  seen.  Presently,  however,  I  looked 
toward  Toledo,  and  saw  a  man — obviously  an  em- 
ploye of  the  road — approaching  me,  carrying  a  red 
lantern  in  his  hand. 

"Good  evening,"  said  I. 

"How  do  you  do?"  he  returned,  sleepily.  "Did 
you  just  come  up?" 

"  Yes— just  got  off  the  train." 

"How  did  you — 0,  I  thought  it  was  Simon 
McCann,"  he  said,  as  he  drew  nearer. 

"No,  I  am  not  Simon,"  I  replied.  "On  the  con- 
trary,  my  name  is  Smith — first  name  John.  Do  you 
know  any  one  of  that  name  here  ?" 

What  a  question  to  ask  anywhere  in  the  world ! 

"0,  yes;  half-a-dozen  families.  There's  old  John, 
and " 

"  Do  you  know  William  Smith  ?" 

"Yes — quite  an  old  man,  is  he  not  ?" 

"Probably  he  is.  I  never  saw  him.  He  moved 
here  twenty-five  years  ago." 

"  From  Pennsylvania  ?" 

"  Yes." 

"  Are  you  from  Pennsylvania?" 

"Yes;  can  you " 

"  I  see  you've  lost  a" — I  began  to  tremble  now — 
"  leg." 

«  Yes,  can " 

"  In  the  army  ?" 

I  shuddered  at  the  thought  of  having  to  stand 


276  JOHN    SMITH   ON   A   CRUTCH. 

there  and  answer  four  or  five  hundred  questions,  at 
that  time  of  night;  and  I  determined,  as  I  perceived 
he  was  getting  into  a  regular  train  of  army  questions, 
to  make  a  desperate  attempt  at  insulation. 

u  Yes,  can " 

"What  battle?" 

"  Antietam  where  does " 

"What  reg " 

I  had  already  begun  to  ignore  commas,  and  I  now 
saw  the  necessity  of  throwing  out  the  spaces  between 
my  words;  and  I  hurriedly  replied  : 

"  Eighth pennsylvaniareserveswheredidyousaywil- 
liamsmithli  ves  ?" 

The  spell  was  broken,  and  he  responded,  like  a 
white  man : 

"  About  two  miles  from  here." 

"  Is  there  no  hotel  here  ?" 

"None." 

"  No  house  of  entertainment  ?" 

"  No." 

"  Is  there  any  chance  then  to  get  a  conveyance  ?" 

"  None  that  I  know  of." 

"  Then  I  must  walk  it.  Will  you  direct  me  to  his 
house  ?" 

II  Yes ;  yon  go " 

He  gave  me  the  directions,  and  they  appeared  so 
plain  that  I  fancied  I  could  find  my  uncle's  house 
with  my  eyes  shut. 

The  moon  was  just  up,  the  night  was  beautiful  and 
pleasant,  and  the  roads  surpassingly  muddy ;  and  I 
had  a  walk  that  night  that,  I  think,  will  never  "slip 
my  memory."     The  land  in  this  portion  of  Ohio  is 


SMITH   IN    SEARCH   OF  HIS  UNCLE.  277 

low  and  flat,  the  soil  black,  loose  and  soft — very  fer- 
tile, too,  so  far  as  that  is  concerned ;  but  a  man  isn't 
particular  about  rich  ground  to  walk  on  with  a 
crutch — and  the  soundings  were  from  three  to  thirty 
inches. 

At  the  first  cross-road,  I  went  astray — took  the 
wrong  road,  traveled  half-a-mile  on  it,  and,  beginning 
to  grow  apprehensive,  stopped  by  a  gate,  yelled, 
waked  somebody's  neighbor,  and  asked  if  that  was 
the  road  to  William  Smith's? 

"Did  you  come  from  the  station?"  was  the  re- 
sponse of  the  neighbor,  who  was  in  his  night-dress. 

"  Yes." 

¥.  Then  you  are  on  the  wrong  road.  You  should 
have  kept  on  toward  the  south  at  the  cross-roads.  It 
is  at  the  next  cross-road  after  that.  Then  you  turn 
to  the "  I  thought  he  said "  right." 

"  Thank  you,"  I  said.     "  Good-night," 

"  Good-night." 

The  door  closed,  and  I  was  alone.  I  retraced  my 
muddy  way.  followed  closely  by  a  large  savage  dog 
belonging  to  the  owner  of  the  house,  while — the  soil 
being  unusually  pliable  there — my  crutch  sunk  in 
eighteen  inches  at  every  step. 

Before  reaching  my  uncle's  that  night,  I  got  off  the 
wrong  road,  and  on  it  again,  five  times,  did  two  miles 
of  superfluous  walking  and  two  miles  of  the  requisite 
article,  waked  whole  dozens  of  neighbors,  and 
alarmed  whole  battalions  of  dogs.  These  faithful 
creatures  barked  furiously  as  I  approached,  and  set 
others  to  barking,  in  response,  at  a  distance,  and  they 
barked  and  set  others  to  barking  at  another  distance, 


278  JOHN    SMITH    ON   A   CRUTCH. 

and  they  others,  and  so  on,  and  so  on,  again ;  till  I 
must  have  indirectly  and  innocently  aroused  or  dis- 
turbed the  greater  portion  of  the  population  of  Ohio 
that  night.  Cleveland,  Sandusky,  Steuben  ville, 
Columbus,  Dayton,  and  Cincinnati,  all  heard  from 
me  through  the  dogs. 

At  last,  A'orn  and  weary  and  covered  with  mud,  I 
found  the  place,  and  not  without  apprehensions  of 
getting  shot  for  a  robber,  approached  the  door,  and 
knocked. 

As  intimated,  I  had  never  seen  my  uncle,  and  how 
did  I  know  what  kind  of  man  he  was,  or  what  sort 
of  reception  awaited  me?  Suppose  he  should  be  ill- 
natured,  being  disturbed  at  that  time  of  night,  and 
make  me  feel  as  though  I  were  not  welcome?  Such 
misgivings  suggested  themselves  to  me,  as  I  stood  at 
the  door. 

I  knocked  a  couple  of  times,  without  getting  any 
reply,  and  began  to  fear  that  my  uncle  supposed  me 
to  be  a  burglar  and  was  getting  his  gun  ready  to 
shoot  through  the  door.  I  therefore  stepped  aside, 
and  yelled  : 

"Hallo!" 

I  heard  a  movement  within,  but  no  reply. 

II  Hallo !"'  I  repeated  :  the  somber  echoes  of  my 
voice  rang  through  a  gloomy  wood  near  by ;  and  I 
was  a  little  afraid  it  might  stir  up  a  panther  or  wild- 
cat, and  tempt  it  to  come  out  and  eat  a  piece  of  me. 

"  Who  is  there  ?"  came  from  within. 
"Does  William  Smith  live   here?"  was  my  non- 
committal rejoinder. 
"Yes." 


SMITH   IN  SEARCH   OF   HIS   UNCLE.  279 

"  I  am  his  nephew  from  Pennsylvania,  John  Smith, 
Junior,''  said  I,  in  a  distinct  voice. 

The  whole  house  shook,  as  my  uncle  sprung  from 
the  bed  and  alighted  on  the  floor  of  the  little  old- 
fashioned  farm-house. 

"  Wait  one  moment,"  said  he,  in  a  voice  that  was 
musical  with  welcome. 

There  was  a  hasty  fumbling  among  garments  for  a 
moment,  and  a  glad  little  light  sprung  up  within,  and 
peeped  slyly  out  at  me  from  crevices  about  the  door. 
Then  the  door  opened,  and  before  me  stood  a  strong  old 
man  of  seventy-three,  with  snow-white  hair  and  beard. 

'Is  this  my  uncle?"  I  asked. 

"  Yes,"  he  replied,  cordially  grasping  my  hand. 
"  Come  in,  my  boy  !     You  are  my  nephewr  John?" 

"  Yes." 

"  And  have  lost  your  leg.     Too  bad  !" 

11  0,  I  don't  mind  that  any  more,  uncle,"  I  said,  as  I 
walked  in. 

Never  have  I  been  received  anywhere  with  such 
open-hearted  welcome,  as  by  this  aged  uncle.  It  was 
nearly  two  o'clock  ;  my  aunt — only  two  years  younger 
than  he — soon  made  her  appearance,  and  welcomed 
me  as  cordially  as  he  had  done :  ten  thousand  ques- 
tions were  asked  and  answrered,  and  the  early  morning 
would  have  found  us  still  in  conversation,  but  that 
my  uncle,  by  and  by,  observed  that  I  must  be  tired, 
after  my  walk,  and  said  I  had  better  take  some  rest. 

That  I  had  walked  from  the  station  with  my  crutch 
and  cane,  lost  my  way  several  times,  and  wandered 
about  over  some  portion  of  the  State  of  Ohio,  was  a 
matter  of  marvel  to  him. 


280        JOHN  SMITH  ON  A  CRUTCH. 

Not  to  tire  the  reader  with  family  affairs — however 
interesting  a  general  history  of  the  Smith  Family 
might  be — I  will  silently  pass  over  the  brief  and 
happy  period  I  spent  with  my  good  uncle  and  aunt. 

I  took  a  propeller  at  Toledo,  for  Buffalo,  and  after 
a  pleasant  voyage  of  two  nights  and  a  day,  on  Lake 
Erie,  arrived  at  that  city. 

I  spent  a  few  days  there  among  my  Cold  Spring 
friends — in  the  course  of  which  I  had  but  one  narrow 
escape  from  drowning,  while  out  on  the  lake  on  a 
pleasure-excursion — then  returned  to  Philadelphia, 
via  the  New  York  and  Erie,  Northern  Central,  and 
Pennsylvania  Central  Railroads. 


SMITH'S   KNOWLEDGE    OF    GERMAN,    ETC.        281 


CHAPTER     XXXIX. 
Smith's  Knowledge  of  German,  et  cetera. 

TN"  the  fall,  I  determined  on  another  western  tour, 
I  which  I  accomplished.  In  this  tour,,  I  visited  the 
/  following  places :  Cclumbus,  Dayton,  and  Cincin- 
nati, Ohio;  Indianapolis  and  Lafayette,  Indiana; 
Springfield,  Decatur,  Bloomington,  El  Paso,  and 
Peoria,  Illinois.  I  had  intended  to  go  on  into  Iowa 
again,  but  winter  came  on,  and  it  began  to  get  too 
cold  for  me.  So,  I  returned  to  Philadelphia  shortly 
before  Christmas,  via  Logansport,  Fort  Wayne,  and 
Pittsburg. 

During  this  tour,  not  much  happened  that  would 
interest  or  divert  the  reader.  I  might  briefly  mention 
one  or  two  amusing  incidents  that  came  under  my 
notice. 

Often  as  I  had  passed  through  Lancaster,  Pennsyl- 
vania, I  had  never  stopped  there ;  and,  on  my  way 
west,  I  determined  to  drop  off  for  twenty-four  hours. 
In  Lancaster  every  one  talks  English  and  German,  (or 
Dutch,  as  they  call  it  there,)  with  equal  fluency;  and 
it  is  not  unusual  for  a  person  relating  an  incident  or 
making  some  remarks,  to  begin  in  English  and  end 
m  Dutch  ;  or  vice  versa. 

While  I  was  sitting  in  rcy  hotel,  not  far  from  the 


282  JOHN   SMITH    ON    A    CRUTCH. 

depot,  a  Lancastrian,  who  lounged  in,  got  to  telling 
the  proprietor  a  very  interesting  story,  of  an  adven- 
ture he  bad  recently  met  with  while  hunting  docks. 
lie  was  relating  the  story  in  English,  and  I  listened 
with  interest.  The  purport  of  the  story  was  that  he 
and  another  man  had  shot  at  a  duck  simultaneously; 
it  had  fallen,  and  a  dispute  had  arisen  as  to  which 
had  brought  it  down.  Just  as  he  reached  the  crisis 
of  the  story,  where  the  dispute  was  about  to  be  de- 
cided, against  the  other  fellow,  of  course — and  there 
seemed  soma  funny  circumstance  about  it,  for  they 
laughed  immoderately — he  jumped  off  the  track,  as  it 
were,  and  finished  in  Dutch,  something  like  this: 
"  Undsehrichtienochtuchuherkroshomlustienblosterb 

hionmemmtebtehtcbtchch-h-h — h-h-h — h h h 

h — h h — cht — AUGH  !" 

Imagine  how  tantalizing  this  was  to  me.  My 
knowledge  of  German  or  Dutch  is  very  limited.  Be- 
yond Lager  Bier  und  Schweitzer  Kase,  ein,  swei  drei  I 
simply  know  nothing  of  any  of  those  Teutonic  lan- 
guages; and  I,  therefore,  do  not,  to  this  day,  know 
the  denouement  of  the  Lancastrian's  story. 

While  in  Lancaster,  I  took  the  liberty  of  calling 
on  two  prominent  men  of  opposite  political  parties, 
both  of  whom  have  since  passed  away.  I  allude  to 
James  Buchanan  and  Thaddeus  Stevens.  Each  re- 
ceived me  cordially  and  conversed  with  me  in  an  easy 
and  pleasant  manner.  From  the  citizens  of  Lancaster, 
I  learned  that  they  were  kind-hearted  and  noble  men, 
and  that  their  private  characters  were  above  reproach. 
Those  two  public  men  were  regarded  with  some  bitter- 
ness during  their  lives ;  but  whatever  may  have  been 


SMITH'S   KNOWLEDGE   OF    GERMAN,   ETC.        283 

Lheir  errors,  I  believe  they  were  errors  of  the  head 
and  not  o^  the  heart.  They  are  at  rest  now,  and  I 
earnest]''  ask  the  whole  people  of  our  Country  to  join 
me  in  saying — "Peace  to  the  ashes  of  both  !" 

I  shall  never  forget  the  extraordinary  courage  I 
saw  displayed  by  an  hotel  clerk,  in  Columbus,  Ohio, 
while  sojourning  there  during  the  little  tour  in  ques- 
tion. I  was  in  the  sitting-room,  one  day,  when  a  large, 
rough-looking  man,  in  a  state  of  inebriation,  came  in, 
took  a  seat  in  one  of  the  arm-chairs,  and  manifested 
symptoms  of  slumber.  The  clerk  soon  saw  him, 
went  promptly  to  him,  and  gave  him  to  understand 
that  that  state  of  things  wouldn't  do. 

II  Come,"  said  the  clerk,  "  this  won't  do.  You 
must  get  out  of  this.  We  don't  want  a  man  to  come 
in  here  drunk,  and  sit  around  half  asleep." 

"  Wha-at?"  growled  the  inebriate. 

II I  say  you  must  get  out  of  this,"  said  the  clerk, 
laying  his  hand  on  his  shoulder.     "  Come!" 

He  said  this  in  a  decided  tone,  as  though  he  ex- 
pected the  drunken  gentleman  to  get  up  and  be  led  out. 
But  the  man  made  no  move  toward  getting  up,  and, 
moreover,  didn't  appear  to  be  much  afraid  of  the 
clerk. 

11  Did  you  hear  what  I  said  ?"  demanded  the  latter, 
shaking  him  slightly. 

"  Well,  s'pose  I  did  ?     What  then  ?" 

Such  impudence  to  an  hotel  clerk  ! 

11  What  then  !  I'll  show  you  what  then  !  Now,  you 
get  out  o'  here!"  And  he  seized  the  inebriate's 
shoulder. 

Thereupon  the  latter  arose  slowly,  and  I  supposed 


284  JOHN   SMITH    ON   A   CRUTCH. 

he  was  going  out ;  but  when  he  got  straightened  up, 
he  turned  defiantly  on  the  clerk,  and  raised  his  fist  as 
though  about  to  strike  "from  the  shoulder." 

"  Clear  out,  you  darn  cuss !"  he  said,  to  the 
frightened  clerk,  who  retreated  with  agility.  "  Don' 
come  layin'  yer  hands  onto  me,  or  I'll  batter  the  nose 
off  o'  yer  face  !'"' 

"  Well,  you've  got  to  get  out  of  here,"  said  the 
clerk. 

"  You  can't  put  me  out,"  retorted  the  intoxicated 
gentleman,  defiantly. 

"You'll  see  pretty  soon,"  said  the  clerk,  who,  how- 
ever, kept  at  a  safe  distance.  "  I'm  not  going  to  allow 
a  fellow  that's  been  somewhere  and  got  full  of  rum  to 
come  in  here  and  sleep  it  off!  You  got  nothing  to 
drink  in  this  house." 

"  I  would  if  I'd  'a'  wanted  it." 

"You  would,  eh  ?"  The  clerk  now  walked  toward 
the  door,  and,  in  doing  so,  was  obliged  to  pass  within 
a  few  feet  of  the  intruder ;  and  the  latter,  not  know- 
ing what  his  intentions  were,  turned  round  slowly,  as 
if  on  a  pivot,  so  as  to  keep  his  face  toward  the  clerk 
till  he  went  out.  In  about  three-quarters  of  a  minute 
the  latter  returned,  and  exclaimed : 

"  What !  Haven't  you  gone  yet?" 

11  No — nor  aint  a  goin'  till  I'm  ready.  An',  look 
out !"  he  exclaimed,  as  the  clerk  approached  him 
again.     "  Don't  ye  come  near  me,  or  I'll  spilter  ye !" 

I  do  not  know  exactly  what  he  meant  by  this  re- 
markable word,  as  I  have  searched  in  vain  for  it  in 
the  lexicons  of  several  languages :  but  I  suppose  he 
meant  something  dreadful. 


SMITH'S   KNOWLEDGE    OF   GERMAN,    ETC.        285 

The  clerk,  however,  did  not  seem  inclined,  as  yet, 
to  make  any  aggressive  movement:  he  merely  walked 
past  him,  as  before;  and  again  the  pugnacious  gentle- 
man stood  on  the  defensive,  and  personated  a  first- 
class  pivot.  Strange  as  it  may  seem,  I  could  not 
help  fancying  that  if  I  had  been  in  authority  at  the 
hotel,  as  the  clerk  was,  I  would  not  have  trifled  quite 
so  long  with  an  insolent  drunken  man. 

While  these  sage  thoughts  were  revolving  in  my 
mind,  the  clerk  seemed  to  grow  all  at  once  inspired 
with  extraordinary  courage.  Starting  suddenly  from 
where  he  stood,  he  walked  briskly  toward  the  intruder, 
saying,  decidedly : 

"Now  walk  out  of  here  in  less  than  a  second  I" 
And  he  actually  laid  hands  on  the  big  fellow. 

The  secret  of  the  matter  was  that  two  policemen 
entered  at  that  moment,  having  been  sent  for  by  the 
clerk  at  the  time  of  his  brief  absence  from  the  room; 
and  that  was  what  raised  his  courage  so  wonderfully. 
The  two  officers  walked  the  pugnacious  inebriate  out, 
and  the  clerk  followed  him  to  the  door,  savino- : 

"Confound  you!  You  won't  come  in  here  loafino- 
around !  Next  time  you  try  such  a  game,  I'll  kick 
you  out!" 

"  Go  to "  The  sound  of  the  loafer's  voice  died 

away,  as  he  was  trotted  out  by  the  preservers  of  the 
peace,  and  I  am  unable  to  record  what  the  rest  of  the 
sentence  was. 

While  at  Decatur,  Illinois,  I  heard  a  conversation 
between  a  traveler  and  an  hotel  clerk,  that  strikingly 
exemplifies  the  irregularity  of  western  railroad  trains. 

"  What  time  does  the  train  go  to  Springfield  ?"  he 


286  JOHN   SMITH    ON   A    CKUTCH. 

inquired,  at  the  counter,  about  eight  o'clock  in  the 
evening. 

11  At  twelve,"  replied  the  clerk. 

"Then,"  rejoined  the  traveler,  who  was  evidently 
posted,  "give  me  a  room,  and  wake  me  at  about  one. 
That  will  be  time  enough." 

He  was  right.  The  "twelve  o'clock  train"  from 
Lafayette,  going  through  to  Springfield,  did  not 
come  along  till  about  fifteen  minutes  after  one.  In 
the  winter  time,  a  traveler  in  the  west  can  always 
count  on  a  train  about  one  hour  after  its  time,  unless 
some  unusual  accident  has  delayed  it. 

At  Logansport,  Indiana,  I  got  taken  down  a  little. 
The  way  of  it  was  this :  On  the  train  from  Peoria,  I 
made  the  acquaintance  of  a  gentleman  who  kept  an 
hotel  in  Logansport,  and,  in  the  course  of  the  morning, 
as  we  neared  that  place,  I  borrowed  a  literary  paper 
from  him,  which  I  forgot  to  return.  Having  an  hour  or 
two  to  wait  for  a  train  to  Fort  Wayne,  where  I  should 
be  obliged  to  change  cars  again  for  Pittsburg,  I  went 
into  the  hotel  of  the  gentleman  mentioned,  for  the 
purpose  of  getting  breakfast.  Having  taken  break- 
fast, I  thought  of  the  paper  I  had  borrowed,  and  not 
seeing  the  landlord,  and  desiring  to  return  it  to  the 
owner  in  person,  and  thank  him  for  the  favor,  I  askea 
the  clerk  where  he  was. 

"  He  is  out  at  the  stables,"  returned  the  clerk. 

"Will  he  be  in  soon?" 

"I  don't  know.  He  went  out  to  show  a  man  a 
horse  that  he  has  for  sale." 

"  Then  I  will  go  out ;  shall  I  go  through  this  way  ?' 


SMITH'S   KNOWLEDGE    OF    GERMAN,    ETC.        287 

I  asked,  pointing  to  a  path  leading  from  the  rear  of 
the  house  to  the  stables. 

"Yes,  go  right  out  that  way.  But  be  careful. 
There  is  a  dog  out  in  the  yard  that  is  a  little  cross 
sometimes,  and " 

"  0,"  I  interrupted,  carelessly,  u  no  dog  bites  me.  I 
am  not  afraid." 

The  fact  is,  I  have  ever  prided  myself  on  the 
"  charm "  I  can  exercise  over  the  canine  race,  and 
have  often  taken  the  most  ill-natured  dogs  in  my 
hands,  picked  them  up  bodily,  and  even  put  my 
hands  invitingly  to  their  mouths,  and  they  have  not 
harmed  me.  The  reason  is  simply  that  I  never  shrink 
from  them,  or  exhibit  any  fear;  which  demeanor  in- 
spires the  sagacious  creatures  with  respect  for  a  fellow. 

It  was  a  large,  and  beautifully-spotted  black-and- 
white  dog,  and,  as  I  pursued  my  way  to  the  stables,  it 
came  trotting  out  from  a  kennel  it  occupied,  and 
looked  at  me  as  much  as  to  say : 

11  Are  you  afraid  of  me,  sir  ?" 

I  looked  calmly  down  upon  the  animal,  as  if  to 
reply : 

"Sagacious  creature,  I  am  not." 

To  prove  that  I  wasn't,  I  paused  to  admire  it,  and 
fearlessly  laid  my  hand  upon  its  head.  Thereupon,  it 
capered  around  me,  joyfully,  and  made  a  succession 
of  springs  upon  me  as  though  to  kiss  me.  Just  then 
three  juvenile  canines,  that  I  had  not  observed  before, 
came  running  from  the  kennel ;  and  their  resemblance 
to  the  adult  one  was  so  striking,  that  I  had  no  diffi- 
culty in  making  out  the  fact  that  a  near  relationship 
existed  between  and  among  them.     I  stooped  down 


288  JOHN    SMITH    ON    A   CRUTCH. 

to  pat  one  of  the  little  beauties  on  the  head,  and  just 
then,  the  big  one  made  another  playful  spring  at  my 
face,  not  with  any  intention  of  biting  me, — I'll  be 
sworn  to  that, — when  one  of  its  confounded,  awkward 
teeth  struck  me  just  below  the  eye  and  penetrated 
to  the  cheek-bone;  and  the  crimson  "gore"  flowed 
from  the  incision. 

It  was  a  most  provoking  circumstance,  for  the 
clerk  was  looking  from  the  window,  and  the  landlord 
and  another  man  just  then  appeared  at  the  stable-door, 
all  thinking  that  the  dog  had  bitten  me;  which  placed 
me  in  a  ridiculous  light,  in  the  eves  of  the  clerk, 
after  my  boast  that  dogs  were  not  in  the  habit  of 
biting  me.  Although  the  dog  did  not  purposely  hurt 
me,  and  was  still  capering  about,  playfully,  I  exe- 
crated its  awkwardness,  and  felt  that  I  could  have 
knocked  the  top  of  its  head  off  with  my  crutch — had 
no  one  been  looking.  It  was  a  female  dog,  too,  and 
I  told  it  so,  very  concisely,  in  my  vexation :  which 
was  all  the  satisfaction  I  had. 


Traveling  incessantly  for  forty-eight  hours,  I 
reached  Philadelphia  on  a  winter  night,  when  the 
wind  was  howling  and  the  snow  falling  fast.  I  had 
slept  very  little  on  the  trains  during  the  last  two 
nights,  and  it  might  well  be  surmised  that  an  indivi- 
dual like  John  Smith  (or  "any  other  man")  would 
feel  like  M  turning  in,"  under  the  circumstances.  Such 
a  conclusion  would  be  but  rational. 

But  it  is  said  that,  A  Man  is  a  creature  of  circum- 
tances ;"  and  that  adage  was  fully  exemplified  by  my 
remarkable  experience  on  that  memorable  night. 


SMITH'S   KNOWLEDGE   OF   GERMAN,  ETC.        289 

I  had  already  instructed  the  baggage-agent  on  the 
Pennsylvania  Central  train  to  send  rny  trunk  to  my 
residence,  and  I  was  just  stepping  forth  from  the 
depot,  at  Thirty-first  and  Market  streets,  with  the 
view  of  walking  home  through  the  jovial  snow-storm, 
when  a  familiar  voice  accosted  me  with  ; 

"  Hallo,  Smith  !  Where  have  you  been  this  long 
time  ?     Where  arc  you  going  ?" 

I  recognized  a  young  friend  named  Feeny,  who 
was  standing  near  a  sleigh,  to  which  two  handsome 
and  spirited  horses  were  attached.  In  the  sleigh  sat 
another  friend  named  Aaron,  who  also  said  : 

"Why,  Smith!  How  do  you  do?  Glad  to  see 
you.     Where  have  you  been?" 

"  In  the  West,"  I  replied. 

"Going  home?" 

"Yes." 

"Not  going  to  walk?" 

"  Yes." 

"  0,  don't  do  that !  Get  into  the  sleigh  with  Feeny 
and  me,  and  ride." 

"By  all  means,"  urged  Feeny. 

"Are  you  going  directly  home  ?"  They  lived  near 
my  residence. 

"  N— no— but  that  need  make  no  difference.  We 
were  just  taking  a  little  sleigh-ride.  You  don't  mind 
a  ride  of  an  hour  before  you  go  home  ?" 

"I  am  rather  weary,"  I  replied.  "I  have  been 
rattling  along  in  the  cars  for  two  days  and  two  nights. 
Have  come  all  the  way  from  Peoria,  Illinois." 

"Well,  jump  in.     We  will  at  least  take  a  little 
19 


290  JOHN  SMITH  ON"  A  CRUTCH. 

drive  cbwn  Darby  Eoad.  You  must  feel  chilly. 
Ilere  is  something  to  warm  you." 

This  was  an  article  of  glassware,  containing  a 
genial  fluid,  designed  for  the  interior  of  mankind. 
Having  availed  myself  of  this  blessing,  I  sprung  into 
the  sleigh  ;  Feeny  jumped  in  after  me  ;  and  we  dashed 
away  in  the  blinding  storm. 

"  We  were  just  at  the  depot  to  meet  a  friend  we 
expected,"  said  he,  "  but  he  did  not  come." 

Away  we  went  out  Market  street,  defying  even  the 
wintry  wind  to  outstrip  us.  Instead  of  turning  down 
the  Darby  Eoad,  as  proposed,  we  kept  on  out  Market 
street. 

"  We'll  take  a  little  ride  out  this  way  first,"  said 
Mr.  Aaron,  "  then  we  will  return,  go  down  Darby 
Eoad,  cross  Gray's  Ferry  Bridge,  and  go  home." 

"  All  right !" 

We  had  an  extensive  ride  through  West  Philadel- 
phia ;  and  candor  compels  me  to  say  that  some  of  the 
proprietors  of  hotels  in  that  vicinity  lost  nothing  by 
it. 

At  last,  we  found  ourselves  dashing  down  Darby 
Eoad :  the  noble  steeds  still  fresh  and  vigorous,  and 
we  three  " jolly  boys"  suffering  nothing  at  all  from 
the  malady  known  as  "depression  of  spirits." 

Eest !  I  thought  not  of  it  now.  I  remembered 
not  that  I  had  slept  none  for  two  nights.  Away  we 
went  in  the  snow-storm ;  the  wide  fields  of  snow  my 
imaginary  bed,  the  murky  clouds  my  curtains,  the 
wind  and  sleigh-bells  singing  a  merry  song  in  concert 
to  lull  me  to — wakefulness  and  mirth. 

We  approached  a  certain  toll-gate.     What  hour  it 


SMITH'S   KNOWLEDGE   OF   GERMAN,  ETC.        291 

was,  I  can  never  know ;  but  any  one  supposing  it  to 
be  earlier  than  the  beginning  of  another  day,  would 
subject  himself  to  great  ridicule  among  the  u  posted." 

"  Wonder  if  the  toll-man's  up?"  said  Feeny. 

"  Doubtful,"  responded  Aaron. 

"  We'll  wake  him,  of  course,"  said  I. 

"Certainly — -if  we  can  yell  loud  enough." 

We  dashed  onward.  So  far  from  tiring,  our  horses 
seemed  to  gain  new  strength  and  energy  just  then. 
The  toll-gate  and  the  little  house  there  situated,  were 
very  near. 

We  did  not  slacken  our  speed. 

11  Toll  I"  yelled  Feeny,  in  a  loud  voice. 

"  Toll !  Toll !"  shouted  Aaron,  as  we  reached  the 
gate  without  stopping. 

"  Toll !  Toll  1  Toll  I"  I  shrieked,  in  a  jolly  mood  as 
we  dashed  by. 

Alas  I  the  keeper  of  the  gate  never  had  the  felicity 
to  receive  that  "toll."  He  did  not  get  his  due;  but 
we  got  plenty  of  snow. 

11  Get  up  !  Get  up  I"  screamed  Aaron,  addressing 
the  horses. 

The  animals  "  flew.  " 

The  snow-covered  road  rushed  away  behind  us  so 
fast  that  T  fancied  we  were  leaving  the  whole  earth  be- 
hind, and  plunging  away  into  space. 

11  Hurrah  !    Hurrah  !"  shouted  Feeny. 

"Hip-Hip-Hooweel" 

We  reached  the  road  leading  to  Gray's  Ferry 
Bridge,  and  Mr.  Aaron,  who  had  the  lines,  drove  reck- 
lessly "  round  the  corner." 

The  result  may  be  imagined.    The  centrifugal  force 


292  JOHN"   SMITH    OS   A   CRUTCH. 

overturned  the  sleigh  in  about  the  sixteenth  part  of  a 
second ;  we  were  all  spilt ;  Aaron  was  hurled  into  a 
fence-corner ;  Feeny  was  scattered  along  the  road 
behind  the  sleigh;  I,  with  my  crutch  and  cane  strewn 
all  around  me,  was  "chucked"  into  a  snow-bank  at 
the  road-side,  in  an  inverted  position — fairly  buried 
in  the  cold  snow,  and  my  lonely  foot  pointing  up 
toward  the  clouded  heavens:  and  in  the  midst  of  this 
scene  of  general  confusion,  our  conveyance  dashed 
away  through  the  winter  night,  and  — we  had  to  pick 
ourselves  up  and  walk  home,  a  distance  of  two  miles 
and  three  quarters  I 


HOME    ON   THE    ROLLING    DEEP.  293 


CHAPTER     XL. 

2  ON  THE  OCEAN  WAVE,  AND 
ON  THE  ROLLING  DEEP." 

fOR  some  time  I  hud  projected,  for  the  spring  of 
1867,  a  voyage  to  San  Francisco,  via  Cape  Horn. 
My  friends  advised  me,  if  I  wanted  to  go  to 
California,  to  take  a  steamer  and  go  by  way  of  the 
Isthmus;  but,  for  the  novelty  of  the  thing,  I  deter- 
mined to  take  passage  on  a  sailing-ship  and  double 
Cape  Horn,  South  America,  where  the  Patagonians 
live,  who  eat  up  all  the  unfortunate  sailors  driven 
on  their  shores.  [It's  a  pity  Cape  Horn  should  ever 
be  doubled,  for  there  is  too  much  of  it  now.] 

When  March  came,  and  it  began  to  get  windy  and 
stormy,  1  went  to  New  York,  with  the  intention  of 
taking  passage  ou  the  first  sailing-vessel  that  should 
clear  for  San  Francisco. 

My  friends  again  gave  me  a  little  wholesome  ad- 
vice, and  endeavored  to  dissuade  me  from  attempting 
the  voyage  till  after  the  stormy  season,  but  I  replied 
that  I  didn't  mind  seeing  a  storm  at  sea,  that,  in  fact, 
I  rather  desired  it :  so,  I  went. 

Some  of  the  merchants,  ship-owners  and  underwri- 
ters of  New  York,  have  occasion  to  remember  the 
clipper-ship  Brewster,  which  sailed  from  New  York 
for  San  Francisco,  on  the  fourteenth  of  March,  1867, 


29-i  JOHN    SMITH   ON  A   CRUTCH. 

with  a  fresh  north-west  wind  and  under  good  auspices, 
generally.  I,  John  Smith,  was  that  ship's  only  pas- 
senger. She  was  not  a  passenger  ship ;  but  I  was 
allowed  to  take  passage  on  her,  because  I  wanted  to 
go  round  Cape  Horn.  Captain  Collins,  the  master  of 
the  vessel,  asked  me  whether  I  thought  I  could  stand 
up  on  my  crutch,  when  the  ship  should  come  to  be 
tossed  about  on  a  rough  sea :  I  replied  that  I  didn't 
know  about  that,  but  that  I  was  quite  skillful  at 
falling  down. 

As  before  hinted,  we  sailed  on  the  fourteenth  of 
March  ;  and  as  a  powerful  little  tug  towed  us  out  of 
the  harbor,  past  Forts  Kichmond,  Lafayette  and 
Hamilton,  and  I  looked  back  and  saw  Trinity  Church 
steeple  fading  from  view,  I  pondered  on  the  long 
voyage  of  four  or  five  months  before  me,  and  won- 
dered when,  if  ever,  I  should  see  oSTew  York  and  the 
Atlantic  coast  again. 

That  day,  and  the  day  following,  the  weather  was  so 
extremely  cold,  that  the  salt  water  of  old  Ocean,  as  it 
splashed  over  the  bulwarks,  froze  into  a  nasty  uncom- 
fortable slush,  upon  the  deck.  On  the  third  morning 
— that  of  Saturday,  the  sixteenth  of  March — the  air 
was  much  milder,  and  I  began  to  entertain  the  liveli- 
est hopes  that  we  were  to  be  favored  with  pleasant 
weather,  that  I  might  sit  by  the  low  bulwarks  of  the 
forecastle  deck,  and  watch  the  blue  waves  foaming 
and  splashing  as  the  ship  plowed  its  way  through 
them. 

Captain  Collins  was  an  excellent  fellow,  a  lively 
and  agreeable  companion,  and  a  perfect  gentleman. 
The  two  mates,  Messrs.  Trufant  and  Gorham,  were 


A   HOME   ON   THE   ROLLING   DEEP.  295 

unexceptionable ;  I  was  soon  on  the  best  terms  with 
them,  and  anticipated  a  pleasant  voyage. 

But,  somehow  or  other,  these  three  gentlemen  were 
a  little  morose  on  this  pleasant  Saturday  morning. 
It  was  quite  unaccountable  to  me. 
^  "What  can  be  the  reason?"  I  asked  myself. 
"Can  it  be  that  they  don't  like  pleasant  weather,  and 
would  prefer  it  cold  and  stormy  ?"  I  had  heard  such 
things,  of  sea-faring  men.  [Reader,  when  you  hear  it 
said  that  sailors  enjoy  stormy  weather,  don't  believe 
it.] 

About  ten  o'clock  the  first  mate,  Mr.  Trufant, 
after  several  earnest  consultations  with  the  Captain,' 
came  out  of  the  cabin —while  I  was  standing  on 
deck  enjoying  the  pleasant  breeze  and  the  fine  view 
I  had  of  the  waste  of  waters— and  called  out  ■ 

"Steward!" 

"Ay,  ay,  sir,"  responded  the  steward,  from  the 
galley. 

"  Get  up  a  few  barrels  of  potatoes,  and  what  other 
things  you  may  need  from  the  after-hatch:  we're 
going  to  have  a  gale  o'  wind." 

[That  was  what  the  matter  was.  The  barometer 
was  getting  low.] 

"Ay,  ay,  sir,"  said  the  steward. 

The  wind  was  still  N.  W,  and  glancing  in  that 
direction,  I  perceived  that  some  solid-looking,  lead 
colored  clouds  were  rising  above  the  horizon.  °' 

"Going  to  blow,  is  it?"  I  said,  to  the  mate,  as  he 
walked  by  me. 

"  Yes,  a  little,"  he  replied,  as  he  prooeeded  to  give 
some  order  to  the  sailors. 


296  JOHN    SMITH    ON    A    CRUTCH. 

A  couple  of  hours  passed  by,  and  I  saw  nc  in3ica- 
tions  of  a  storm.  It  had  grown  a  trifle  clouJy  ;  and 
the  wind  had  increased  but  little. 

"  We  won't  have  that  gale,  after  all,  will  we?"  I 
remarked,  as  we  sat  at  dinner. 

The  captain  laughed.  "Give  it  time,"  said  he. 
"The  barometer  usually  warns  in  advance.  If  you 
don't  see  a  fresh  breeze  before  morning,  there  will  be 
a  big  change  in  the  weather  somewhere." 

I  said  no  more. 

After  dinner  I  was  on  deck,  and,  observing  that 
the  sailors  were  working  the  pumps,  I  said  to  Mr. 
Gorham,  the  second  mate  : 

"The  ship  leaks  a  little,  does  it  ?" 

u  0,  yes,"  he  replied,  indifferently  :  "  all  ships  leak 
more  or  less." 

"I  hope  ours  will  leak  less,  then,  if  we  get  in  a 
gale,"  I  said. 

"So  do  I,"  he  returned;  "but  I  fear  it  will  leak 
more." 

The  ship  was  rocking  somewhat,  but  I  had  not  yet 
grown  sea-sick.  In  fact,  persons  who  have  once  been 
sea- sick  are  not  quite  so  easily  or  so  severely  affected 
the  second  time. 

I  walked  to  the  bulwark,  scanned  the  north-western 
horizon,  and  perceived  that  it  was  beginning  to  wear 
a  threatening  aspect.  The  wind  was  stronger,  the 
waves  rolling  higher,  and  the  sailors  grave  and 
thoughtful. 

It  was  no  easy  matter  for  me  to  stand,  without 
holding  to  something :  and  hatch- houses,  masts,  bul- 


A   HOME   ON    THE    ROLLING   DEEP.  297 

warks,  ropes  and  belaying-pins  came  quite  handy  to 
brace  myself  against,  or  cling  to  with  one  hand. 

In  another  hour,  the  wind  was  blowing  hard,  the 
waves  were  running  high,  and  one  of  them  jumped 
over  the  bulwarks,  and  wet  everybody  on  deck — 
myself  included.  That  is  what  sailors  term,  "  Ship- 
ping a  sea." 

"  You  had  better  stand  within  the  cabin,"  observed 
the  second  mate. 

I  thought  so,  too,  made  my  way  to  the  door,  and 
stepped  in.  The  cabin  was  built  on  deck  ;  but  a 
high  sill  at  the  bottom  of  the  door-way  kept  the 
water  from  running  in. 

I  then  stood  at  the  cabin-door  for  a  couple  of  hours, 
grasping  each  side  of  the  door- way  to  brace  myself, 
and  watched  the  rising  gale. 


298        JOHN  SMITH  OX  A  CRUTCH. 


CHAPTER     XLI 


J.    Smith's    Cuf^iosity  to   See  a   Gale  mof^e 


than    Satisfied. 

ANOTHER  heavy  wave  clashed  over  the  bul- 
7jL  warks,  and  fell  upon  the  deck,  with  a  thump 
/  that  made  the  ship  tremble.  The  wind  rose 
higher,  and  was  soon  howling  among  the  rigging 
with  a  fierceness  entirely  new  to  me.  Wave  after 
wave  swept  over,  and  the  deck  was  continually 
washed  with  the  agitated  waters.  Evening  came  and 
I  had  no  appetite  for  supper. 

Night  came,  darkness  frowned  on  the  furious  sea, 
the  wind  increased  in  violence,  and  fairly  screamed 
among  the  ropes,  shrouds,  masts,  and  yards ;  we  were 
indeed  in  a  gale. 

The  ship  tumbled  about  so,  that  I  got  sick;  but 
determined  not  to  give  way  to  it.  I  stood  by  the 
cabin  door,  leaned  over  the  high  sill,  and  contributed 
my  dinner  to  the  waters  of  the  ocean. 

The  sails  had  all  been  taken  in  but  the  three  lower 
top-sails,  and  with  those  still  unfurled,  we  had  been 
running  before  the  wind.  These  were  now  taken  in 
— except  the  lower  main  top-sail,  which  is  always  left 
unfurled,  in  order  to  control  the  ship — and  the  vessel 
was  hove  to:  that  is,  turned  with  her  head  to  the 


CURIOSITY   MORE   THAN   SATISFIED.  299 

wind,  her  bow  a  point  or  two  off,  in  order  that  she 
might  rise  on  the  waves. 

When  these  measures  had  been  taken,  it  seemed  to 
me  that  the  wind  just  tried  how  hard  it  could  blow ; 
and  to  do  it  justice,  I  must  say,  that  it  blew  much 
harder  than  I  had  ever  before  thought  it  could.  Wave 
after  wave — every  successive  one  seeming  to  run 
higher  and  higher — struck  the  ship,  which  was  contin- 
ually trembling,  and  straining,  and  "working,"  as 
though  it  might  at  any  moment  break  to  splinters. 

Ah,  I  began  to  realize  that  a  storm  at  sea  is  no 
luxury !  Header,  if  you  have  not  seen  one,  you  are 
fortunate.  If  you  ever  start  on  a  voyage,  pray 
earnestly  for  smooth  weather,  and  if  your  prayers  are 
answered  be  very  thankful. 

I  retired  to  my  room  at  last,  and  "turned  in." 
That  is  the  nautical  phrase  for  "  going  to  bed."  You 
never  hear  a  sailor  say  he  will  "  go  to  bed."  Ho 
never  "goes  to  bed."  Such  an  expression  would 
sound  very  odd  at  sea.  "Turn  in,"  is  the  proper 
term  there.  If  a  sailor  should  hear  a  man  talk  about 
"  going  to  bed,"  he  would  think  that  man  had  actual- 
ly never  been  out  of  sight  of  land  in  his  life. 

I  "turned  in,"  and  slept.  When  I  awoke  again, 
the  ship  was  tumbling  about  so  that  I  wondered  I 
had  not  been  pitched  out  of  my  berth.  Seeing  one 
of  the  mates  pass  through  the  cabin,  I  accosted 
him  with — ■ 

"How  is  it,  without?" 

"  Blowing  a  regular  gale,"  he  replied. 

"What  time  is  it?" 

"Seven  bells." 


300  JOHN   SMITH   ON   A   CRUTCH. 

At  sea,  they  never  say  eight,  nine,  ten,  eleven,  or 
half-past  eleven  o'clock.  There  is  a  large  bell  at  the 
forecastle,  which  is  tapped  every  half- hour.  At  half- 
past  twelve,  it  receives  one  tap ;  which  is  called  "  one 
bell."  At  one  o'clock,  it  is  tapped  twice :  that  is, 
"two  bells."  At  half-past  one,  it  is  tapped  three 
times:  that  is  "three  bells;"  and  so  on,  till  four 
o'clock,  which  time  is  "eight  bells."  Then  at  half- 
past  four  "one  bell"  is  struck  again  ;  at  five  o'clock, 
"two  bells;"  and  so  on,  up  to  eight  o'clock,  which  is 
"  eight  bells,"  again.  Commencing  at  half-past  eight, 
"one  bell"  is  again  sounded,  "two  bells"  at  nine; 
and  so  on  till  twelve,  when  "eight  bells"  is  reached 
once  more.  So,  when  the  mate  told  me  it  was  "  seven 
bells,"  it  will  be  perceived  that  it  was  half-past 
eleven. 

I  tried  to  sleep  again,  and  succeeded.  How  long  I 
slept,  I  could  not  tell ;  but  when  I  awoke  again,  the 
vessel  was  tossing  about  fearfully,  and  the  waves 
dashing  over  her  fore  and  aft,  with  a  fierceness  that 
threatened  to  burst  her  to  pieces.  But  the  wind  had 
suddenly  lulled.  Not  a  breath  of  air  was  stirring; 
the  lower  main  top-sail  was  flapping  idly  about ;  they 
had  lost  control  of  the  ship,  because  she  would  no 
longer  steer  when  the  wind  ceased;  and  so,  falling 
fairly  into  the  trough  of  the  sea,  she  could  not 
struggle  up  over  the  billows;  and  there  she  lay  at 
the  mercy  of  the  waves,  being  buffeted  by  them  with- 
out any  mercy  at  all. 

It  was  indeed  a  perilous  time.  The  captain,  with 
his  many  years  of  experience  at  sea,  knew  our  danger; 
but  what  could  be  done?     Should  this  state  of  things 


CURIOSITY  MORE   THAN  SATISFIED.  801 

continue  long,  the  ship  must  inevitably  be  beaten  to 
pieces.  All  hands  had  been  called  on  deck ;  and  I 
got  out  of  my  bunk  and  struggled  to  the  cabin-door. 
I  opened  it  a  little  way,  but  a  fearful  sea  swept  over 
and  dashed  it  shut  in  my  face.  I  could  hear  the  voice 
of  the  captain  giving  hurried  commands  to  the  sailors 
who  were  at  work  securing  the  rigging.  The  shrouds 
were  growing  slack,  and  it  was  every  minute  expect- 
ed that  the  masts  would  be  carried  away. 

No  breeze  came;  and  probably  the  angry  sea  would 
have  crushed  us  down  then  and  there,  but  that  the 
clouds  gathered  thickly  over,  and  a  heavy  rain  came 
pattering  upon  the  agitated  waters — a  very  unusual 
accompaniment  of  a  north-west  wind. 

It  may  be  wondered,  by  the  uninitiated,  how  a 
heavy  shower  of  rain  could  help  us.  It  is  not  gener- 
ally known  that  rain  has  a  soothing  effect  on  the 
angry  sea.  Yet,  such  is  the  case.  No  matter  how 
fiercely  the  waves  are  running,  let  the  wind  lull,  and 
a  brisk  rain  of  an  hour  will  take  all  the  rough  edge 
off  them.  It  is  the  dashing  and  breaking  waves  that 
sailors  dread.  A  regular  swelling  wave,  no  matter 
how  high  it  towers,  will  do  no  harm,  as  a  vessel  will 
rise  with  it,  and  ride  lightly  over. 

This  rain  of  twenty-five  or  thirty  minutes,  so  far 
soothed  the  turbulent  waves  as  to  place  us  out  of  im- 
mediate danger ;  and  not  long  after,  the  wind  sprung 
up  again,  command  of  the  ship  was  recovered,  and 
so  the  night  passed — and  the  morning  of  Sunday,  the 
seventeenth  of  March,  St.  Patrick's  Day,  dawned 
upon  the  wide  ocean. 

The  wind  was  still  blowing  freshly,  but  the  sky 


802  JOHN    SMITH   ON"   A   CRUTCH. 

W1W  clear,  the  sun  shining  brightly,  and  the  waves  of 
the  sea  rolling  within  the  pale  of  moderation.  They 
still  washed  the  deck  at  intervals,  but  I  had  got  used 
to  that,  for  the  deck  had  scarcely  been  free  from  the 
briny  water  since  the  middle  of  the  previous  day. 
The  officers  and  sailors  all  wore  high  rubber  boots, 
and  oil-cloth  hats  and  clothes.  But  still,  the  water 
dashed  over  them  so  violently,  that  they  were  wet 
to  the  skin  all  the  time.  If  any  one  ever  asks  you, 
dear  reader,  whether  a  sailor's  life  is  a  pleasant  one 
or  not,  say  "  No  !" 

******** 

A  strong  breeze  blew  all  day,  and  as  night  ap- 
proached, it  increased  to  a  gale  again.  I  had  hoped 
the  storm  was  over ;  but  a  storm  at  sea  seldom  sub- 
sides entirely  within  twenty-four  hours. 

"What  we  had  experienced  on  Saturday  night,  was 
not  to  be  compared  with  the  terrors  of  that  memora- 
ble Sunday  night.  I  have  suffered  much,  and  under- 
gone much  danger  in  my  time,  but  I  never,  either 
before  or  since,  passed  such  a  terrible  night. 

The  gale  grew  fierce  again — fiercer  even  than  be- 
fore— and  the  lofty  waves  thundered  over  us  so,  that 
much  of  the  time  it  was  difficult  to  determine  whether 
we  were  still  floating  or  not. 

But  the  most  fearful  time  was  about  midnight. 
Light  clouds  were  hurrying  over,  driven  by  the 
mighty  wind,  while,  at  intervals,  portions  of  the  sky 
grew  clear,  and  the  moon  shone  down  upon  us.  It 
was  an  odd  sight — such  an  awful  tempest  seen  in  the 
moonlight.  The  wind  blew  with  such  violence  that 
the  ship  was  nearly  the  whole  time  on  her  beam-ends, 


CURIOSITY  MORE   THAN   SATISFIED.  303 

that  is,  lying  over  on  her  side.  At  intervals  she 
would  struggle  up  for  a  moment,  but  the  fierce  blast 
would  soon  hurl  her  over  again.  On  one  occasion, 
while  she  stood  up  for  a  moment,  the  pumps  were 
sounded,  and  the  captain  soon  after  called  out, 

"  Starboard  watch  to  the  pumps  !" 

The  fact  was,  the  ship  was  found  to  be  leaking 
badly,  and  the  hold  already  contained  about  four-and- 
a-half  feet  of  water  !  One  of  the  mates  informed  me 
of  this.  I  had  requested  him  to  be  frank  with  me, 
and  to  let  me  know  the  full  extent  of  any  danger  ; 
stating,  that  if  it  became  necessary  for  us  to  die,  I 
would  do  my  share  of  it  with  as  good  a  grace  as  pos- 
sible under  the  circumstances. 

The  crew  of  a  vessel  is  divided  into  two  watches — 
one  called  the  Starboard,  and  the  other  the  Port.  The 
port  watch  is  commanded  by  the  first  mate,  and  the 
starboard  by  the  second.  [The  port  side  of  a  ship  is 
the  left-hand  side,  the  starboard  the  right.]  While 
the  starboard  watch  worked  most  energetically  at  the 
pumps,  the  port  watch  went  aft  with  the  captain  and 
first  mate,  and  proceeded  to  heave  cargo  overboard. 

All  that  was  cared  for  now  was  to  save  our  lives 
and  to  do  that,  the  ship  must  be  kept  afloat.  What 
cared  we  now  for  stores  of  wealth  !  The  wealth  of 
the  whole  world  would  not  have  been  more  highly 
regarded  than  an  old  rusty  nail !  What  cared  1°  for 
my  trunk,  my  clothes,  my  books,  money,  papers, 
manuscripts,  and  little  valuable  and  favorite  trinkets  I 
I  could  have  seen  them  all,  and  a  million  times  more, 
swept  overboard  into  the  dashing  sea,  without  giving 
them  another  thought. 


304:  JOHN    SMITH   ON   A   CRUTCH. 

How  faithfully  those  sailors  worked !  both  at  tho 
pumps,  and  at  the  after-hatch,  where  the  valuable 
cargo  was  being  dashed  from  the  ship,  as  though  a 
sacrifice  to  appease  the  wrath  of  the  billows  !  How 
quickly  and  submissively  they  sprung  to  execute 
every  slight  command  1  There  was  no  tardiness  now. 
They  were  working  for  dear  life,  and  it  was  only 
necessary  for  them  to  know  what  to  do.  The  com- 
mands of  the  officers  were  merely  instructions.  There 
was  no  cursing  the  sailors  by  the  officers.  [As  f  jT 
the  captain,  he  seldom  swore  at  the  sailors ;  but  the 
mates  could  do  so,  in  mild  weather,  with  a  skill  that 
no  reasonable  person  could  impeach.] 

There  was  no  longer  any  distinction  between 
officers  and  men.  All  appeared  equal.  All  labored 
for  a  common  end.  Death,  which  lays  every  one  low, 
with  an  impartial  hand,  was  apparently  near  us,  and 
we  were  comrades  now.  Kings  and  emperors,  had 
they  been  aboard  that  seemingly  doomed  ship,  must 
have  felt  that  they  were  only  men  ! 

I  remained  at  the  cabin  door,  most  of  the  time, 
watching,  at  times — as  the  receding  sea  would  allow 
me  to  open  the  door  a  little  way — the  second  mate, 
Mr.  Gorham,  and  his  watch,  working  at  the  pumps, 
and  the  phosphorescent  sparks  chasing  each  other 
over  the  deck  and  out  at  the  ports  and  scuppers.  I 
could  also  see  long  lines  of  gleaming  phosphorus  on 
the  crests  of  the  waves  far  out  upon  the  dreadful  sea. 

The  steward,  who  had  been  helping  at  the  pumps, 
made  his  way  into  the  cabin  for  some  purpose,  and 
said  to  me, 

"  Passenger,  don't  you  think  we're  gone  ?" 


CURIOSITY   MORE   THAN   SATISFIED.  305 

His  voice  indicated  that  he  had  already  abandoned 
all  hope. 

11  Things  look  rather  gloomy,"  I  replied. 

"  Well,"  he  rejoined,  "  we  have  but  once  to  die. 
If  we  go  down,  it  will  soon  be  over;  we  won't  suffer 
long." 

This  was  all  the  consolation  any  of  us  had.  The 
water  in  the  hold  did  not  decrease — the  storm  raged 
with  unabated  fury — and  the  question  now,  was  not, 
"  Shall  we  go  down  ?"  but  "  How  soon  ?"  It  seemed 
but  a  question  of  time.  If  we  had  a  spark  of  hope 
left,  it  was  merely  as  one  compared  with  one  hundred. 
The  mate  told  me  it  was  possible  the  ship  could  be 
kept  afloat  till  morning,  and  that  then  it  was  possible 
some  vessel  might  be  in  sight  and  come  to  our  assist- 
ance. But  these  vague  possibilities  were  worse  than 
no  hope  at  all.  They  were  too  tantalizing.  I  should 
really  have  felt  better  if  I  had  known,  beyond  a 
doubt,  that  we  should  go  down  in  ten  minutes. 

Still,  it  is  natural  for  man  to  cling  to  any  hope  that 
is  held  out  to  him,  however  slight.  Probably,  hope 
faint  as  it  was,  saved  us  on  this  occasion.  Had  all 
given  up,  and  sat  down,  with  the  conviction  that  we 
were  lost — although  no  one  on  board  was  really  of 
any  other  opinion— the  ship  would  have  filled  in  an 
hour,  and  we  must  have  gone  down  to  our  dismal 
graves  in  the  depths  of  the  Gulf  Stream. 

In  this  awful  extremity,  I  could  not  help  remem- 
bering certain  verses  from  Byron's  "Don  Juan" 
which  were  very  applicable  to  the  occasion.  I  quote 
them: 

20 


306  JOHN    SMITH   OX   A    CRUTCH. 

"It  may  be  easily  supposed,  while  this 

AVas  going  on,  some  people  were  unquiet; 

That  passengers  would  find  it  much  amiss 
To  lose  their  lives,  as  well  as  spoil  their  diet ; 

That  even  the  able  seaman,  deeming  his 
Days  nearly  o'er,  might  be  disposed  to  riot  ; 

As,  upon  such  occasions,  tars  will  ask 

For  grog,  and  sometimes  drink  ruin  from  the  cask. 


"Then  came  the  carpenter,  at  last,  with  tears 
In  his  rough  eyes,  and  told  the  captain  he 

Could  do  no  more  ;  he  was  a  man  in  years, 

And  long  had  voyaged  through  many  a  stormy  sea, 

And  if  he  wept,  at  length,  they  were  not  fears 
That  made  his  eyelids  as  a  woman's  be  ; 

But  he,  poor  fellow,  had  a  wife  and  children — 

Two  things  for  dying  people  quite  bewildering. 

"  The  ship  was  evidently  settling  now 
Fast  by  the  head  ;  and,  all  distinction  gone, 

Some  went  to  prayers  again  and  made  a  vow 
Of  candle  to  their  saints — but  there  were  none 

To  pay  them  with  ;  and  some  looked  o'er  the  bow, 
Some  hoisted  out  the  boats  :  and  there  was  one, 

That  begged  Pedrillo*  for  an  absolution, 

Who  told  him  to  be  d d,  in  his  confusion." 

The  night  passed — I  scarcely  know  how — and,  con- 
trary to  our  anticipation,  morning  found  us  still  afloat. 
The  storm  was  yet  raging,  and  the  sailors  were  still 
busy  pumping  and  heaving  cargo  overboard.  I  took 
my  position  at  the  cabin  door  again,  standing  in 
water  six  or  eight  inches  deep — for  the  water  ha  1 
made   its  way  into  the  cabin,   where  my  trunk   was 


*  Pedrillo,  a  licentiate  who  accompanied  Don  Juan,  and  was 
bis  tutor. 


CURIOSITY   MORE   THAN   SATISFIED.  307 

leisurely  soaking.  I  heard  the  first  mate  tell  one  of 
the  sailors  to  climb  up  to  the  mast-head  and  keep  a 
look  out  for  a  vessel.  Shortly  afterward  he  came  to 
the  door,  held  it  a  little  way  open  and  said  : 

"Mr.  Smith,  just  glance  out!  There  is  the  wildest 
sight  I  ever  saw,  during  all  my  experience  at  sea!" 
-And  he  pointed  to  windward. 

I  looked;  but  how  shall  I  describe  that  sublime 
and  awful  picture!  The  sun  was  shining  brightly, 
the  wind  blowing  so  fiercely  that  it  shattered  the 
green  waves,  lifted  up  the  waters  bodily  and  dis- 
persed them  into  a  thick  spray,  so  that  I  could  not 
discern  where  sea  and  sky  met.  The  next  moment 
we  were  enveloped  in  such  a  cloud  that  we  could  not 
see  thirty  yards  around  us ;  the  heavens  grew  black 
and  it  began  to  look  like  the  dusk  of  evening.  A 
minute  later,  the  clouds  had  swept  over,  and  the 
bright  sun  burst  once  more  upon  that  scene  of  fear- 
ful  grandeur.  Never  did  the  god  of  day  shed  light 
on  a  wilder  picture!  It  was  grand— majestically 
grand— awfully  grand,  beyond  the  expression  of 
human  tongue!  Notwithstanding  our  prospect  of 
speedy  death,  I  was  lost  and  swallowed  up  in  momen- 
tary admiration.  How  vividly  came  to  my  mind,  as 
I  stood  there  gazing  on  the  tempestuous  scene,  those 
sublime  words  from  the  one-hundred-and-seventh 
Psalm— words  that  I  had  never  before  properly  ap- 
preciated— 

"They  that  go  down  to  the  sea  in  ships,  that  do 
business  in  great  waters;      * 

"  These  see  the  works  of  the  Lord,  and  his  wonders 
in  the  deep. 


303  JOHN    SMITH   ON   A   CRUTCH. 

"  For  he  commandeth,  and  raiseth  the  stormy  wind, 
which  Ufttth  up  the  leaves  thereof. 

"They  mount  up  to  the  heaven,  they  go  down 
again  to  the  depths ;  their  soul  is  melted  because  of 
trouble. 

"  They  reel  to  and  fro,  and  stagger  like  a  drunken 
man,  and  are  at  their  wit's  end." 

Presently  the  whole  wild  picture  was  again  wrapped 
in  gloom,  and  I  was  only  conscious  of  the  thunder 
of  the  waves  beating  over  the  ship,  of  the  howling 
wind  and  dashing,  blinding  spray ;  a  moment  of 
gloom :  then  the  clouds  were  dashed  away  by  the 
wind,  the  sun  burst  out  and  the  wild  day  shone 
round  again. 

We  were  in  the  Gulf  Stream,  which  is  of  a  warmer 
temperature  than  the  other  waters  of  the  Atlantic  in 
the  same  latitude ;  and  the  cooler  wind  seemed  to 
grasp  the  water  up  and  dash  it  into  the  sky  ;  so  that,  at 
times,  as  the  spray  mounted  up  and  formed  in  clouds, 
the  sea  and  sky  appeared  to  leave  their  places,  rush- 
ing about  through  space  and  commingling  in  unutter- 
able confusion. 

In  the  midst  of  all  this,  how  frail  did  our  ship 
seem ! — so  frail,  that  I  fancied  it  lived  only  because 
the  battling  elements  did  not  deign  to  notice  it,  or 
think  it  worth  their  while  to  crush  it,  as  they  might 
have  done  with  a  breath  ! 

But  now,  a  beam  of  hope  dawned  on  us;  and  it 
could  be  seen  shining  on  the  faces  of  all.  Every 
countenance  was  radiant  with  it.  There  was,  at  last, 
after  eight  hours  of  constant  pumping,  a  perceptible 
decrease  of  water  in  the  hold.     Sixty  or  seventy  tons 


CURIOSITY  MORE   THAN   SATISFIED.  309 

of  cargo  had  been  thrown  from  the  after  part  of  the 
ship;  the  carpenter  had  gone  down  and  succeeded  in 
patching  up  one  of  the  rifts  :  and,  to  our  joy,  it  was 
found  that  the  pumps  were  now  capable  of  throwing 
the  water  out  a  little  faster  than  it  ran  in.  Although 
the  gale  was  still  blowing,  and  many  planks  had  been 
torn  from  the  bulwarks  by  the  waves,  imminent 
death  no  longer  threatened  us,  and  we  felt  compara- 
tively happy. 

All  that  day,  (Monday,)  that  night,  and  a  portion  of 
the  following  day,  the  storm  raged.  But  on  Tuesday 
afternoon  it  gradually  lulled,  and  on  Wednesday 
morning  the  sun  smiled  cheerfully  on  a  nearly  smooth 
sea.  A  slight  breeze  was  blowing,  the  sky  was  clear 
and  blue,  the  air  perfectly  charming  ;  and  I  began  to 
forget  the  terrors  and  dangers  of  the  storm  through 
which  we  had  passed.  After  all,  now,  it  was  pleasant 
to  be  at  sea. 

Of  course,  such  a  thing  as  proceeding  on  a  voyage 
of  fifteen  thousand  miles  was  not  to  be  thought  of; 
and  the  captain  put  back  for  New  York,  which  was 
now  about  seven  hundred  miles  distant,  as  we  had 
drifted  a  long  way  during  the  north-west  gale. 

That  beautiful  morning,  as  I  went  up  on  the  after 
deck — a  deck,  usually  called  the  poop  deck,  which 
surrounds  the  cabin,  and  is  raised  about  three  or  four 
feet  above  the  main  deck — I  met  the  captain  walking 
to  and  fro,  and  he  said  : 

"Well,  Mr.  Smith,  taking  into  consideration  our 
recent  gale,  what  do  you  think  of  the  man  who  wrote 
'  A  life  on  the  ocean  wave  ?'  " 

"  One  of  two  things,"  I  replied:  " he  was  either  a 


310  JOHN   SMITH    ON   A   CRUTCH. 

lunatic,  or  else  never  saw  the  'ocean  wave.'     In  the 
latter  case*,  be  was,  at  least,  a  fool." 

"That,"  rejoined  the  captain,  "reminds  me  of •  a 
certain  Doctor — a  friend  of  mine — who  once  took  a 
voyage  with  me.  He  was  much  elated  with  the  idea 
of  going  to  sea,  and,  as  we  sailed  from  port,  and  he 
gazed  out  upon  the  endless  expanse  before  us,  lie  was 
perfectly  enraptured.  But,  by  and  by,  as  we  got  out 
where  it  was  a  little  rough,  he  became  sea-sick — terri- 
bly so — and  I  found  him  aft,  in  a  little  while,  hanging 
over  the  bulwark,  and  ready  to  turn  inside  out.  0, 
wasn't  lie  sick  !  '  Hallo,  Doctor,'  said  I;  'not  sick,  I 
hope  V  '  O,  L  >rdy  !  yes,'  said  he.  '  O,  dear  !'  Then 
I  thought  his  stomach  itself  would  come  up.  '  What 
do  you  now  think  of  the  man  who  wrote,  "  A  life 
on  the  ocean  wave  ?"  I  was  cruel  enough  to  ask. 
*  Think!'  said  he.  'I  think — bawk  ! — think  he  was  a 
d d  fool !     Bawk  !     Bawk  !     0,  Lordy,  0  1'  " 


MORE   OF  THE   DREADFUL   SEA.  311 


CHAPTER    XLI  I. 

JW.ORE    OF    THE    DREADFUL     SEA. 

YY7TTH  Thursday  morning  came  an  east  wind:  it 
VV  was  moderate,  at  first,  but  freshened  up,  and 
/  blew  positively  strong;  the  sky  became  heavi- 

ly overcast  with  clouds,  the  rain  fell — so  did  the  mer- 
cury in  the  barometer — and  there  was  every  indica- 
tion of  an  easterly  gale. 

Still,  as  night  came  on,  and  it  had  not  yet  amounted 
to  a  gale,  the  ship  was  kept  running  before  the  wind 
under  her  three  lower  top-sails,  and  we  made  pretty 
good  time  toward  New  York. 

I  retired  that  night  not  quite  at  ease,  but  still  suffi- 
ciently so  to  rest  well ;  and  as  the  vessel  was  kept 
before  the  wind  all  night,  and  did  not  rock  much,  I 
didn't  tumble  out  of  my  berth,  as  one  may  reasonably 
expect  to  do  when  the  vessel  rolls  heavily. 

I  am  not  in  the  habit  of  paying  any  attention  to 
dreams,  or  of  relating  them  ;  but  one  that  visited  me 
that  night  was  so  inexpressibly  ludicrous,  that  I  must 
"out  with  it." 

I  dreamed  that  I,  in  company  with  a  verv  black 
African,  armed  with  an  axe,  was  in  a  deep,  thick  wood 
in  California,  looking  for  a  pole  to  make  sled-soles  of, 
when  a  big  bear  made  his  appearance,  and  immediate- 


312  JOHN    SMITH    ON    A    CRUTCH. 

\y  "went  for"  us.  The  darkey  dropped  the  axe, 
sprung  upon  a  stump  near  by,  and  squatted  on  the  top 
of  it,  trembling  with  terror  ;  but  I,  not  being  in  a 
condition  to  retreat  with  speed,  caught  up  the  axe, 
threw  down  my  crutch,  balanced  myself  on  my  foot, 
and  as  the  bear  came  on  and  reared  up  to  hug  me  to 
death,  I  aimed  a  blow  at  his  head.  But  it  missed  his 
head  and  cut  off  one  of  his  fore-paws — a  bear  has  four 
of  them,  you  know — the  blood  spurting  forth  from 
the  stump,  in  a  way  that  was  quite  gratifying  to  me. 
He  was  not  placed  hors  die  combat,  however,  but  per- 
sisted in  his  attack  on  me  with  extraordinary  vigor. 
I  aimed  another  blow  at  the  seat  of  his  intellect ;  but, 
singularly  enough,  missed  it  again,  and  cut  off  the 
other  fore- paw.  As  I  did  so,  the  axe  flew  from  my 
hands,  and  fell  at  the  foot  of  a  big  tree,  thirty  feet 
distant.  The  bear,  not  yet  discomfitted,  growled 
savagely,  showed  his  teeth,  and  came  dancing  at  me, 
holding  up  his  bloody  stumps,  as  though  still  deter- 
mined, even  with  them,  to  crush  me.  Finding  my- 
self unarmed,  and  without  so  much  leisure  time  as  to 
pick  up  my  crutch,  I  turned  about  and  made  a  hop 
toward  the  stump  on  which  the  darkey  sat.  The  bear 
hopped  after  me.  I  had  thought  of  climbing  up  on 
the  stump,  but  the  frightened  darkey  occupied  all  the 
space  there;  so  I  just  kept  on  retreating  round  the 
stump,  hopping  as  fast  as  I  could,  and  close  at  my  heel 
came  the  bloody  bear,  hopping,  too,  as  fast  as  he  could. 
The  whole  picture,  with  the  scared  nigger  on  the 
stump  in  the  center, — his  thick  lips  mumbling  unin- 
telligible words  of  fright,  and  his  white  eyes  starting 
out  so  that  they  could  have  been  knocked  off  with  a 


MOKE    OF    THE    DREADFUL   SEA.  313 

club,  without  touching  his  flat  nose — was  so  unprece- 
dentedly  ludicrous,  that  terrified,  as  I  fancied  I  was,  I 
laughed  outright,  in  the  very  midst  of  my  visionary 
peril ;  and  so  awoke. 

It  was  daylight ;  the  roar  of  the  agitated  sea  struck 
on  my  ear ;  the  waves  were  dashing  over  the  stern 
of  the  ship  and  rolling  over  the  roof  of  the  cabin  ;  the 
winds  were  howling  without;  the  ship  was  plunging 
and  pitching,  rising  in  the  misty  air  and  sinking  into 
the  depths  among  the  waves:  it  was  blowing  a  regular 
gale.  I  got  up  and  was  making  my  way  toward  the 
cabin  door,  when  the  captain  entered. 

"  Good-morning,"  said  I.  "  How  are  things  now?" 
"0,"  he  replied,  in  a  tone-  of  vexation,  "about  as 
bad  as  they  can  be.  this  side  of  the  bottom.  We  have 
an  easterly  gale  to  contend  with,  and  the  ship  is  still 
before  the  wind.  I  wanted  to  run  as  long  as  I  could, 
in  order  to  get  out  of  this  cursed  Gulf  Stream.  Now, 
I  am  half  afraid  to  heave  the  ship  to,  lest  it  should 
strain  her.  Every  thing  goes  wrong.  This  is  the 
most  unlucky  voyage  of  my  life.  I  have  followed 
the  sea  for  twenty  years ;  I  have  been  in  innumerable 
gales ;  I  have  had  ships  burnt  under  me;  I  have  been 
shipwrecked  on  coasts;  I  have  run  upon  icebergs, 
and  been  attacked  by  pirates  ;  but  never  had  such 
continued  ill-luck.  I  hoped  the  other  gale  would 
have  been  enough  for  one  trip.  We  got  out  of  that 
by  barely  a  hair's-breadth  ;  and  now,  in  our  crippled 
condition,  before  we  have  time  to  get  out  of  the  Gulf 
Stream,  we  have  a  black,  blustering  easterly  gale 
rushing  upon  us.     If  it  lasts  as  long  as  the  other,  we 


314:  JOHN    SMITH    ON   A   CRUTCH. 

must  either  go  to  the  bottom  or  be  driven  upon  the 
coast.     Nothing  can  save  us." 

"Too  bad,"  said  I,  taking  advantage  of  a  momen- 
tary lull,  to  attempt  to  walk  across  the  cabin. 

But  just  then  the  ship  gave  a  fearful  lurch,  and 
I  was  dashed  violently  back  upon  a  sofa,  striking, 
upon  the  back  of  it,  that  leader  in  the  elbow  commonly 
styled  the  "  crazy-bone,"  and  temporarily  paralyzing 
my  arm. 

"Are  you  hurt?"  asked  the  captain. 

"  Only  my  arm,"  I  repl;ed,  grasping  the  back  of  the 
sofa  with  my  other  hand  to  keep  from  rolling  off. 
"  Only  my  arm.  It,  I  am  inclined  to  believe,  is 
broken." 

"I  hope  not." 

Jfy  arm  was  so  paralyzed  that  I  could  not  move  it 
for  a  quarter  of  a  minute;  when,  as  it  began  to  re- 
cover from  the  benumbing  effects  of  the  shock,  it 
tingled  in  a  way  that  was  agonizing.  It  was  not 
broken,  however,  but  badly  bruised. 

"I  think,"  said  the  captain,  "you  must  be  the 
Jonah  of  this  ship.  It  is  said  when  ships  are  un- 
fortunate, that  they  have  a  Jonah  on  board.  Hadn't 
we  better  throw  you  overboard  ?" 

"If  you  will  insure  me  a  safe  voyage  to  land  in  a 
whale's  stomach,"  I  replied,  "you  may  do  so.  If  it 
will  take  me  to  New  York  in  three  days  and  three 
nights,  I  think  1  will  reach  land  much  sooner  than 
this  leaky  old  ship." 

"I  don't  know,"  he  rejoined.  "  We  may  reach  the 
nearest  point  of  land  much  sooner." 

"  Where  is  that,"  I  asked. 


MORE  OF  THE  DREADFUL  SEA.       315 

•'•  The  bottom:'' 

The  gale  did  not  grow  so  fierce  that  day  as  our 
northwestern  gale  had  done;  but  still  it  was  a  bigger 
gale  than  any  man  need  wish  for. 

Two  of  the  men  were  severely  injured  at  the  wheel, 
and  had  to  be  conveyed  to  the  forecastle  and  stowed 
away.  Moreover,  one  or  two  others  had  fallen  ill, 
from  sheer  exhaustion;  and  as  the  crew  only  numbered 
twenty-three,  including  officers,  steward,  and  carpen- 
ter, this  was  a  considerable  diminution  of  force.  The 
ship  leaked  as  badly  as  ever,  and  the  pumps  had  to 
be  kept  going  continually. 

That  night,  in  the  midst  of  the  gale,  the  wind 
hushed  suddenly,  as  on  the  night  of  the  sixteenth, 
while  the  sea  was  running  high,  and  left  us  again 
struggling  in  a  trough  of  the  sea. 

"At  mercy  of  ihe  waves,  whose  mercies  are 
As  human  beings'  during  civil  war." 

However,  it  was  soon  blowing  again,  and  the 
captain,  who  wanted  to  get  across  the  Gulf  Stream  as 
soon  as  possible — for  the  sea  is  always  more  turbulent 
there  than  elsewhere— put  the  ship  before  the  wind, 
letermined  to  run  her  "as  long  as  she  would  float." 


316         JOHN  SMITH  ON  A  CRUTCH. 


CHAPTER    XLIII. 

John  Smith's  End  Imminent. 


Y  morning — Saturday,  the  twenty-third  of  March 
kJ  — a  fearful  gale  was  blowing,  and  the  weather 
/  was  so  heavy  that  the  dismal,  misty  clouds 
seemed  to  float  on  the  bosom  of  the  sea. 

The  ship  was  leaking  worse  than  ever,  the  water 
in  the  hold  was  actually  gaining ;  and  the  second  mate, 
who  was  on  watch,  told  the  captain  that  unless  the 
vessel  was  hove  to  soon,  she  must  go  down,  as  it  was 
impossible,  with  the  gale  astern — the  chief  leakage 
being  aft — to  keep  her  from  filling.  The  captain  told 
him  to  call  all  hands  on  deck  at  once ;  and  he  came 
to  the  cabin  door  and  called  the  first  mate. 

Mr.  Trufant,  the  first  mate,  "  turned  out  "  hastily, 
put  on  his  water-proof  clothes,  and  stepped  forth  on 
deck.  Just  then  a  heavy  sea  swept  over  and  carried 
him  off  his  feet,  dashing  him  against  the  starboard 
bulwark,  where  both  his  feet  slipped  under  one  of 
the  spare  spars  that  was  loosely  lashed  there,  and  was 
floating  on  the  water.  As  the  wave  receded,  and  the 
the  water  ran  off  through  the  rents  in  the  bulwarks, 
the  spar  settled  down  again,  its  immense  weight  rest- 
ing on  one  of  his  legs,  which  he  could  not  withdraw 
in  time.     He  uttered  an  exclamation  of  pain,  and  Mr. 


JOHN  smith's  end  imminent.  317 

Gorham  and  the  sailors  at  the  pumps,  hurried  to  his 
assistance.  They  could  not  move  the  heavy  spar, 
and  the  unfortunate  man  was  obliged  to  lie  there,  suf- 
fering the  most  excruciating  pain,  till  another  sea 
swept  over,  half  drowning  him,  and  floated  it  again. 

Then  Mr.  Gorham  and  the  sailors  hastily  dragged 
him  from  the  bulwark,  and  carried  him,  groan- 
ing and  fainting,  into  the  cabin.  His  leg  was 
broken  about  five  inches  below  the  knee. 

Here  then  was  another  important  portion  of  our 
force  rendered  useless  ;  to  say  nothing  of  the  depress- 
ing influence  their  officer's  misfortunes  and  sufferings 
had  on  the  sailors,  who,  like  most  seamen,  were  su- 
perstitious, and  were  heard  declaring  that  the  Brew- 
ster was  an  •'  unlucky  ship."  Mr.  Trufant  was  an 
exemplary  seaman,  and  could  have  handled  the  ship 
as  well  as  the  captain. 

At  this  most  distressing  time,  the  gale  grew  more 
violent  than  ever ;  heavy  seas  swept  over  from  stern 
to  stem,  in  rapid  succession ;  the  main  hatch-house 
was  stove  to  pieces ;  both  galley  doors  were  stove  in, 
and  the  sea  dashed  through,  putting  out  the  fires, 
washing  away  provisions  and  important  utensils,  and 
hurling  the  steward  out  against  the  bulwark,  and 
almost  overboard ;  nearly  all  the  remaining  planks  of 
the  bulwarks  were  torn  away;  the  wheel-house  began 
to  go  to  pieces  ;  the  lower  fore  top-sail  was  blown  to 
ribbons;  and  the  ship  broached  to — that  is,  came 
round  into  the  trough  of  the  sea,  and  lay  with  her 
side  to  the  wind  and  waves. 

The  captain  hurried  out  upon  the  after-deck,  had 
the  lower  mizzen  top-sail  taken  in,  and  ordered  the 


318  JOHN"   SMITH    OX   A   CRUTCH. 

lower  main  top-sail  to  be  braced  so  that  the  ship 
should  lie  close  to  the  wind,  and  steer  over  the  waves. 
This  done,  he  returned  to  the  cabin,  and  he  and  I 
"sjt"  Mr.  Trufant's  broken  leg — and  a  deuce  of  a 
"set"  we  made  of  it.  I  had  read  "anatomy  "  in  my 
ime,  and  fancied  I  knew  something  of  surgery  and 
the  general  construction  of  the  human  frame  ;  but, 
tossing  about  as  the  ship  was  at  that  time,  the  most 
skillful  surgeon  could  scarcely  have  done  justice  to 
the  case. 

Only  the  tibia — that  is,  the  large  bone  of  the  leg- 
was  broken,  and  we  applied  three  splints  to  it,  bound 
it  too  tightly,  with  too  much  bandage,  and  fancied  we 
had  "reduced  the  fracture,"  in  a  scientific  manner. 
When  we  arrived  in  New  York  Harbor,  nine  days 
later,  and  the  mate  was  taken  to  the  Brooklyn  City 
Hospital,  the  surgeons  there  had  to  set  it  over  again, 
and  attach  a  forty-pound  weight  to  the  foot  to  keep 
it  in  its  place. 

Our  troubles  were  not  over  when  Mr.  Trufant's  ac- 
cident occurred.  Another  man  at  the  wheel  had  his 
shoulder  dislocated,  and  was  carried  to  the  forecastle. 
Every  wave  that  swept  over  did  some  additional 
damage — crushing  in  a  panel  of  the  house  on  deck,  or 
tearing  a  plank  from  the  bulwarks.  Mr.  Gorham  told 
the  captain  that  the  water  in  the  hold  was  increasing, 
and  that  one  of  the  two  pumps  was  out  of  order.  The 
rigging  grew  slack  again;  the  shrouds  had  endured 
such  a  strain  that  some  of  them  were  beginning:  to 
give  way  and  were  flapping  loosely  in  the  wind  :  and 
it  began  to  be  pretty  clear  that  the  main-mast  would 
soon  go. 


JOHN  SMITH  S   END  IMMINENT.  319 

The  sky  was  not  quite  so  heavy  as  it  had  been  ; 
and  the  captain  went  aft  with  his  glass  and  anxiously 
scanned  the  horizon.  There  was  a  schooner  in  sight, 
three  or  four  miles  to  windward,  and  as  she  rose  on 
the  waves  we  could  see  her  distinctly.  So,  he  went 
into  the  cabin,  got  an  odd-looking  flag  from  his 
private  state-room,  took  it  out  and  hoisted  it  at  the 
mizzen-mast.     It  was  a  si'jnal  of  distress. 

"Mr.  Gorham,"  he  shouted,  "don't  give  it  up! 
Keep  the  pump  going!     She  may  not  see  us  I" 

"Ay,  ay,  sir!"  responded  the  brave  mate.  "I  will 
not  give  it  up! — Work  away  with  a  will,  men!" 

The  remaining  effective  pump  was  worked  with 
unusual  energy  for  half-an-hour ;  during  which  time, 
I  climbed  up  the  companion-way,  went  out  on  the 
stormy  after-deck,  clung  to  a  rope  with  which  the 
wheel-house  was  lashed,  and  anxiously  watched  the 
schooner.  She  was  standing  several  points  off,  and 
did  not  change  her  course.  Whether  she  had  failed 
to  see  our  signal,  or  was  herself  in  a  bad  condition, 
or  both,  I  am  unable  to  say :  but  she  moved  on,  and 
finally  grew  dim  at  the  misty  horizon. 

Again  the  captain  scanned  the  ocean  on  all  sides ; 
but  no  sail  was  in  sight.  He  then,  with  an  air  of  sad- 
ness and  disappointment,  hauled  down  the  signal. 
Next,  he  went  to  Mr.  Gorham,  and  asked  him  how 
the  water  was.  There  was  no  hope  in  that  direction, 
lie  could  not  tell  how  much  water  was  in  the  hold, 
but  any  one  could  see  that  the  ship  was  slowly 
settling.  If  any  one  had  mentioned  hope  to  us  now, 
we  would  have  laughed  at  him — laughed  with  the 
wild  laugh  of  despair ! 


320  JOHN   SMITH    ON   A   CRUTCH. 

A  thousand  thoughts  of  home  and  friends  came 
crowding  upon  me ;  and  I  wondered  how  many 
months  the  fathomless  waters  would  roll  over  me — 
how  many  months  I  should  lie  entangled,  perhaps, 
among  some  slimy  sea-weeds,  if  not  immediately  de- 
voured by  the  monsters  of  the  deep,  before  the  dear 
ones,  whom  I  had  seen  for  the  last  time,  would  give 
me  up  for  lost.  They  could  never  know  how  I 
perished,  I  mused ;  none  would  be  left  to  tell  the 
tale. 

In  an  hour,  perhaps  the  waves  would  be  dashing 
a  thousand  fathoms  above  us  all.  Time  would  roll 
on,  the  Brewster  would  never  be  heard  of,  no  letter 
from  San  Francisco  would  ever  bear  to  my  friends 
the  welcome  words,  "  All  is  well !"  Years  would 
pass  away — no  tidings  of  the  wanderer — one  by  one, 
all  who  were  dear  to  me  would  grow  old  and  die,  and 
sink  down  into  the  grave,  thinking  of  the  lost  one 
who  disappeared  in  the  dim  years  gone  by,  and 
wondering  how  he  died ! 

These  thoughts  were  saddening  indeed  to  one  who 
believed  that  his  end  was  nigh ;  but  I  remembered 
that  no  fretting,  or  repining,  or  yearning  for  loved 
faces,  could  at  all  help  the  matter ;  and  made  up  my 
mind  to  die  like  a  man ! 

The  captain  returned  to  the  after-deck,  and  I  went 
down  into  the  cabin  and  stayed  with  Mr.  Trufant, 
whose  sufferings,  as  the  vessel  tossed  about,  were 
indeed  heartrending.  He  was  a  brave  fellow,  though, 
and  stood  it  with  fortitude.  He  had  served  in  the 
navy,  and  his  face  was  disfigured  from  the  explosion 
of  a  shell ;  and  he  told  me  he  had  been  unlucky  all 


JOHN  SMITH'S  END   IMMINENT.  321 

his  life.  He  did  not  know  the  extent  of  our  danger 
— and  I  did  not  tell  him — and  related  some  of  his 
misfortunes,  as  I  sat  there  on  a  sofa,  near  his  berth, 
clinging  to  it  to  retain  my  seat.  He  said  that,  only 
a  year  before,  he  had  met  with  an  accident  on  a  ship, 
had  nearly  been  crushed  by  a  falling  yard,  that  it  had 
taken  him  eight  or  nine  months  to  recover,  during 
which  time  he  had  spent,  in  doctor-bills,  and  the  like, 
all  the  hard-earned  money  he  had  saved  up  in  the 
course  of  years ;  that  now,  just  when  he  had  got  able 
to  start  on  a  voyage  again,  with  hopes  of  a  brighter 
future,  this  sad  accident  had  occurred,  and  would  lay 
him  up  for  months,  should  we  reach  shore.  It  was 
hard,  he  said,  after  what  he  had  suffered  in  the  navy ; 
and  I  thought  so,  too. 

Well,  his  misfortunes  and  sorrows,  my  misfortunes 
and  sorrows,  and  the  misfortunes  and  sorrows  of  the 
whole  crew  would  soon  have  ended,  had  the  storm 
continued  so  much  as  an  hour  longer.  But  at  six 
bells — vulgarly  called  on  land,  eleven  o'clock — it 
began  to  abate,  as  though  its  very  strength  was  ex- 
hausted ;  and  by  evening,  had  entirely  subsided.  The 
ship  was  again  comparatively  relieved  from  water; 
and  there's  no  use  in  any  ordinary  mortal  attempting 
to  give  a  passable  description  of  our  joy,  as  we  found 
ourselves  once  more  basking  in  the  full  light  of 
hope! 

21 


322  JOHN    SMITH    ON   A   CRUTCH. 


CHAPTER     XLIV. 

Courtesies   at    Sea. 

TVTEXT  day,  (Sunday,)  a  fresh  north-west  breeze 
I  N  blew  all  day,  and  we  made  but  little  progress 
/  toward  New  York.  The  weather  was  pleasant, 
and  the  ship  did  not  leak  so  much  as  before.  The 
sailors  were  busy  all  day,  repairing  the  damages,  as 
best  thev  could,  securing  the  ri^ingr  and  so  forth  ;  the 
carpenter  nailed  some  boards  on  the  almost  bare 
framework  of  the  bulwarks,  made  another  inspection 
of  the  hold,  and  got  some  of  the  leaks  stopped  :  espe- 
cially did  he  secure  one  of  the  stern  planks,  that  was 
so  loose  that  a  man  might  have  pulled  it  off  with  his 
hands. 

On  Monday  morning,  the  sea  was  perfectly  calm. 
Not  the  slightest  breeze  stirred,  the  surface  of  the 
water  was  glassy,  and  scarcely  any  swell  was  percep- 
tible.    [They  have  swells  at  sea,  as  well  as  on  land.] 

By  and  by,  as  we  laid  perfectly  motionless,  we  saw 
a  steamer  coming  from  the  southward,  and  the  cap- 
tain ran  up  his  "  ensign,"  as  a  signal  that  he  wanted 
to  communicate  with  her.  It  was  the  Moro  CastU, 
from  Havana  for  New  York.  As  she  passed  astern 
of  us,  within  half  a  cable's  length,  Captain  Collins 
called  out: 


COURTESIES   AT   SEA.  323 

"  This  is  the  Brewster,-  leaking  badly  and  return- 
ing in  distress!  Please  report  me  in  New  York!'' 

11  Ay,  ay,"  replied  the  captain  of  the  steamer,  as  she 
rushed  by. 

On  Monday  evening,  a  stiff  north-west  breeze  sprung 
up  again,  as  though  determined  to  keep  us  away 
from  New  York  harbor;  and  it  lasted  a  whole  week. 

On  Thursday,  the  twenty-eighth,  after  we  had  been 
tacking  about  for  three  days  without  gaining  much 
distance,  a  pilot-boat  came  dancing  out  to  us,  over 
the  rough  waves,  and  a  pilot  left  her  in  a  yawl  and 
came  aboard  the  Brewster. 

"Have  you  axy  Newspapers?"  was  the  ques- 
tion the  captain  and  I  asked  him,  in  a  breath,  as  he 
came  up  over  the  bulwark. 

I  shall  never  forget  the  anxiety  and  impatience 
with  which  we  asked  this  question.  We  had  been 
absent  from  the  world,  as  it  were,  about  three  weeks: 
and  so  full  of  terror  and  danger  had  the  period  been 
that  it  seemed  like  a  moderate  life-time.  I  almost 
fancied  that  my  country  might  have  undergone  a 
revolution  during  my  absence,  and  that  I  might  find 
it  necessary,  on  going  ashore,  to  bend  my  solitary 
knee  to  a  crowned  monarch.  However,  I  saw  no 
indications  of  any  such  state  of  things,  in  the  World, 
Herald  and  Times  with  which  the  pilot  responded  to 
our  earnest  inquiries.  Things  seemed  to  be  going  on 
about  as  usual  in  Gotham,  and  the  remainder  of  the 
United  States :  the  markets  appeared  to  be  good ; 
whisky,  cotton  and  iron  were  quoted  at  fair  figures : 
while  the  usual  healthy  number  of  fires,  accidents  and 
murders  were  reported  in  the  proper  columns. 


824  JOHN*    SMITH   OS   A   CRUTCH. 

On  Monday  morning,  the  first  day  of  April,  having 
been  all  this  time  beating  about  in  front  of  the  harbor, 
we  found  ourselves  becalmed  again,  about  seventy 
miles  from  New  York.  The  sky  was  heavily  clouded, 
a  dull,  damp,  misty  rain  fell,  and  the  barometer  was 
low.  Every  thing  augured  ugly  weather.  Sound- 
ings were  taken,  which  indicated  that  we  were  in  fifty 
fathoms  water.  Other  sails  could  be  seen  on  all 
sides. 

By  and  by,  we  saw  a  small  side-wheel  steamer 
coming  toward  us,  from  the  direction  of  the  harbor ; 
whereupon  the  captain  said  to  the  pilot : 

"  Don't  you  think  that's  a  steamer  coming  to  take 
us  in  tow  ?" 

"  It  looks  very  like  it,"  was  the  reply. 

The  captain  then  called  the  carpenter  and  instructed 
him  to  remove  from  the  stern  of  the  ship  the  board 
on  which  the  name  Brewster  was  painted. 

"What  is  that  for,  Captain?"  I  asked. 

"  Don't  you  know  ?"  he  replied. 

"No." 

"  How  dull  you  are,"  said  he. 

"You  would  be  dull,  too,"  I  retorted,  "if  you  had 
never  been  out  of  sight  of  land  but  three  or  four  times 
in  your  life.     But,  tell  me — what  is  it  for*/" 

"  Why,  you  see,  we  have  already  been  reported  in 
distress ;  and  if  that  fellow  coming  should  recognize 
us,  he  would  ask  a  thousand  or  fifteen  hundred  dollars 
to  tow  us  in." 

"Ah?"  said  I,  somewhat  enlightened.  "Is  that 
their  style?" 

"  Yes,  indeed :  let  them  get  a  fellow  in  a  tight  place 


COURTESIES   AT    SEA.  325 

once,  as  we  are  now,  and  they'll  pile  it  on — no  telling 
how  high. — Hurry,  carpenter." 

The  steamer  reached  us  at  last,  crossed  our  stern, 
and,  with  a  graceful  curve,  came  round  on  our  port 
side,  within  hailing  distance. 

"Good  morning,"  said  the  captain  of  the  little 
steamer — the  Wm.  Fletcher — who  stood  in  the 
pilot-house. 

"  Good  morning,"  returned  Captain  Collins. 

"  Where  are  you  from  ?"  asked  the  steamer  captain, 
looking  curiously  at  the  blank  place  where  the 
Brewster's  name  ought  to  have  been. 

"  San  Francisco,"  responded  Captain  Collins. 

11  What  vessel  ?" 

This  was  a  stunner,  and  Collins,  after  hesitating  a 
moment,  pretended  not  to  have  heard,  and  said: 

11  How  do  the  Highlands  bear  from  here  ?" 

"About  north-west,"  was  the  response.  "What 
ves " 

"  What  will  you  charge  to  tow  me  in  ?"  interrupted 
Captain  Collins. 

"  Three  hundred  dollars,"  was  the  prompt  reply. 

"0,  nonsense,"  rejoined  Collins.  "That's  too 
much.  That's  all  they  charge  when  the  harbor  is 
full  of  ice." 

"  Our  regular  price,"  said  the  other. 

"0,  no,  captain,"  said  Collins;  "come,  be  reason- 
able.     I'll  give  you  a  hundred  and  fifty." 

"  Couldn't  do  it,  really." 

"  Well,"  rejoined  Collins,  "I  think  we  will  have  a 
favorable  wind  soon,  and  I  can  get  in  without  being 
towed." 


326  JOHN    SMITH   ON  A   CRUTCH; 

"  Yes,"  retorted  the  other,  ironically ;  "  quite  likely. 
If  you  have  no  barometer  on  board,  I'll  lend  you  one. 
The  mercury  has  gone  clean  down  out  of  sight,  and 
we're  going  to  have  a  deuce  of  a  blow.  I'll  venture 
it  will  be  a  nor'-wester,  too." 

"  Pooh  !  No  danger.     I'll  sail  in." 

"All  right,"  said  the  steamer  captain.  "Now  that 
I  come  to  think,  I'm  sorry  I  made  so  good  an  offer. 
I  begin  to  believe  you  have  an  underwriter's  job  of 
it.     You  haven't  been  to  San  Francisco." 

"I'll  give  you  two  hundred  dollars,"  said  Collins, 
without  paying  any  attention  to  the  other's  last  re- 
mark. 

"No,  not  a  cent  lower  than  three  hundred.  I 
wouldn't  do  it  for  that,  if  I  had  not  already  offered  to. 
I'll  swear,  I  believe  that  is  the  Brewster  !  We 
heard  of  it." 

"The  what?"  said  Collins. 

"  The  Brewster.  Come,  isn't  it  now  ?  Captain 
Adams,  of  the  Moro  Castle,  reported  her  returning  in 
distress." 

"What  do  I  know  of  the  Blueshin?  I  never 
heard  of  such  a  ship. — Come,  I'll  give  you  two 
hundred  and  fifty." 

"No,  three  hundred;  not  a  cent  less.  I'll  put  you 
alongside  the  pier  for  that." 

"  0,  you're  a  hard  one !  Well,  you  can  tow  us  in, 
and  I'll  lick  you  the  first  time  I  catch  you  in  New 
York.  Mind,  now,  you  are  to  take  the  ship  to  the 
pier  whenever  I  want  you  to.  I  will  anchor  in  the 
harbor  to-day." 

"All  right ;  I'll  stick  to  that." 


COURTESIES   AT   SEA.  327 

"  Well,  Mr.  Gorham,  give  him  our  hawser." 

"Ay,  ay,  sir." 

The  hawser  is  a  very  thick,  heavy  line,  used  for 
towing  or  making  a  ship  fast ;  and  one  end  of  this 
rope  the  sailors  gladly  threw  over  to  the  steamer, 
while  the  other  was  made  fast  to  the  capstan  on  the 
forecastle  deck. 

We  arrived  in  the  harbor  about  four  o'clock  that 
afternoon,  and  had  just  cast  anchor  when  we  were 
visited  with  a  rough  north-west  gale.  But  we  did  not 
care  now,  we  were  safe. 

We  anchored  near  Hart's  Island,  and  I  got  on  the 
little  steamer,  with  Captain  Collins,  and  went  up  to 
the  city.  We  landed  at  the  foot  of  Catharine  street, 
and  my  glad  heart  never  before  bounded  as  it  did 
when,  after  the  perils  of  the  past  three  weeks,  I 
stepped  upon  terra  firma  once  more.  I  felt  that  I 
wouldn't  care  if  somebody  would  knock  a  hole  in  the 
bottom  of  the  nasty  old  sea  and  let  all  the  salty  water 
run  out.  It  isn't  of  any  use,  anyhow,  only  to  raise 
sharks,  and  whales,  and  mermaids,  and  porpoises,  and 
sea-horses,  and  sea-serpents,  and  such  like  hideous 
creatures,  to  float  iron-clads  and  drown  people ;  and 
for  idiots  that  never  saw  it  to  write  pretty  verses 
about.  I  am  not  habitually  a  fighting  man ;  on  the 
contrary,  quite  a  peaceably-disposed  citizen  of  the 
United  States ;  but  if  I  ever  come  across  the  cuss  that 

wrote, 

"  A  life  on  the  ocean  wave, 

A  home  on  the  rolling  deep  ; 
Where  the  scattered  waters  rave. 
And  the  winds  their  revels  keep," 
I'll  lick  him  or  he'll  lick  me ! 


328         JOHN  SMITH  ON  A  CRUTCH. 


CHAPTER    XLV. 

fto  !    foi\_  Califoj\nia! 

A  BOUT  the  middle  of  April,  a  little  more  than  a 
TX  year  after  my  fearful  experience  on  board  the 
/  Brewster,  I  might  have  been  seen,  (if  anybody 
had  been  watching),  in  the  vicinity  of  the  Pacific 
Steamship  Company's  buildings,  at  the  foot  of  Canal 
street,  New  York,  making  inquiry  as  to  the  rates  of 
passage  from  New  York  to  San  Francisco.  I  had 
about  recovered  from  my  maritime  scare. 

"One  hundred  dollars,  first  cabin,"  said  the  clerk; 
u  seventy-five  dollars  second  ;  and  forty  dollars  steer- 
age. The  cabin  tickets,  however,  are  all  sold.  We 
have  but  a  few  steerage  tickets  left." 

"  The  deuce  !"  I  exclaimed,  forgetting  my  good 
manners,  in  the  agony  of  disappointment. 

It  was  two  days  prior  to  the  sailing  of  the  Ocean 
Queen.  I  did  not  like  the  idea  of  going  in  the  steer- 
age, for  I  had  been  informed  that  it  was  "rough," 
and  that  even  a  soldier  would  find  it  so;  nor  did  I 
relish  waiting  eight  days  for  the  next  steamer. 

"  Pshaw  I"  I  ejaculated. 

"  You  wanted  a  cabin  ticket,  I  suppose  ?" 

"  Couldn't  think  of  going  in  the  steerage ;  I  have 
distant  relations  who  have  been  in  Congress." 


ho!  for  California!  329 

"  You  might,"  he  said,  with  some  hesitation,  "  be 
crowded  into  the  cabin,  but  I  have  no  cabin  ticket  to 
sell  you.  If  you  will  take  a  steerage  ticket,  I  am 
confident  you  can  arrange  it  with  the  purser  to  get 
transferred  to  the  cabin." 

"  Do  you  think  so  ?" 

"  I  am  sure  of  it." 

"  Then  I  will  take  one." 

I  paid  forty  dollars,  and  the  clerk  filled  out  a 
steerage  ticket  for  me — which  I  took  with  thanks, 
and  walked  away,  fancying  I  had  learned  a  great 
secret. 

It  was  a  great  secret,  for  I  afterward  discovered 
that  it  was  necessary  to  intrust  it  to  a  great  many 
people  in  order  to  have  it  well  kept. 

The  day  the  Ocean  Queen  sailed  was  a  rainy,  dismal 
day.  The  steamer  was  crowded,  and  it  required  the 
neatest  bit  of  skill  to  set  one's  crutch  down  any- 
where on  the  steerage  deck  without  injuring  any  one's 
toes.  There  were  more  than  fourteen  hundred  pas- 
sengers aboard. 

The  steamer  did  not  get  out  of  the  harbor  before 
five  o'clock,  and  the  purser  being  busy  collecting 
tickets,  I  was  unable  to  see  him  in  order  to  make  that 
little  "arrangement;"  and  as  night  closed  in  and  we 
plunged  out  among  the  waves  of  the  mighty  deep,  I 
fell  myself  doomed  to  "turn  in"  in  the  steerage. 

How  shall  I  describe  that  night  of  horror?  It 
fairly  takes  away  my  appetite  to  think  of  it !  As  the 
shores  disappeared  in  the  darkness  and  distance,  a 
strong  wind  blew,  the  waves  rolled  savagely,  then 


330        JOHN  SMITH  ON  A  CRUTCH. 

began  that  pitching  and  tossing  of  the  vessel  so  terri- 
ble to  the  stomachs  of  the  nnsailor-like. 

No  sooner  had  we  got  "  outside"  and  some  slight 
"motion"  was  perceptible,  than  some  of  the  more 
susceptible  passengers  grew  blue  under  the  eyes  and 
white  as  a  sheet  all  over  the  face,  and  proceeded  to 
manifest  their  regret  for  having  dined,  by  violently 
casting  up  the  masticated  provisions,  to  the  celebra- 
ted and  popular  tune  of  "  New  York  !"  Then,  as  the 
vessel  went  plunging  on,  growing  more  and  more 
reckless  in  its  manner  of  tossing  itself  about,  others 
began  to  feel  the  wretched  reeling  of  the  brain  and 
morbid  heaviness  of  the  stomach — -others  grew  sick, 
while  the  already  sick  grew  sicker — others  turned 
deathly  pale,  groaned  in  agony,  gasped,  shrieked  "  New 
York !"  and  let  their  recently-procured  nourishment 
rush  out  with  a  gush,  and  gush  out  with  a  rush ; 
while  a  wild,  agonizing  chorus  of  "  0,  dearvl"  "0. 
Lordy  I"  "  Oo-oooo-Godbemerciful,"  and  the  like,  re- 
sounded and  reverberated  through  the  ship,  penetra- 
ted dark  recesses  and  corners,  mingled  with  the  dash 
of  the  surging  waves  without,  and  the  dull  splash  of 
repudiated  nutrition  on  the  main  deck  within. 

As  for  myself — I  wasn't  exactly  sick;  I'll  never 
acknowledge  that  I  was,  as  long  as  I  live.  That  I 
felt  slightly  indisposed — just  enough  so  not  to  feel  in 
the  humor  for  receiving  visitors — I  will  not  deny ;  but 
it  was  not  sea-sickness.  It  was  only  a  kind  of  nausea 
and  dizziness,  accompanied  by  violent  spasms  just  be 
neath  the  lungs  and  a  rapid  ejectment  from  the 
stomoch  of  some  trifling  article  of  food  that  didn't 
agree  with  me — under  the  circumstances.     I  am  sub- 


HOi   FOR   CALIFORNIA  I  831 

ject  to  these  spells — usually  on  the  water.  On  such 
occasions,  the  natural  depression  of  spirits  makes  me 
rather  morose,  and  I  am  not  apt  to  talk  much.  On 
the  occasion  in  question,  all  I  said  was  "  New  York," 
when  a  man  asked  another  where  he  was  from,  and  I 
thought  he  was  talking  to  me.  1  should  have  said 
" Philadelphia,"  instead  of  "New  York,"  but  I  didn't 
care  much,  just  then,  where  I  was  from.  Realizing 
that  I  had  articulated  when  I  was  not  spoken  to,  I 
was  about  to  excuse  myself  when  the  vessel  plunged 
violently,  and  I  simply  said,  "  0,  Lordy !  Ugh  !" 

Such  was  all  the  conversation  I  indulged  in  that 
night. 

I  went  to  the  purser  next  day — late  in  the  day,  for  I 
felt  better  in  the  afternoon  than  in  the  morning — told 
him  the  circumstances,  and  requested  him  to  make 
that  little  "  arrangement ;"  stating  that  I  was  willing 
to  pay  the  difference.  He  said  the  cabin  was 
crowded,  but  that,  in  consideration  of  about  thirty- 
five  dollars,  he  could  probably  find  me  a  place.  This 
T  paid  him ;  and,  to  make  the  matter  short,  I  paid 
thirty-five  more  in  gold  on  the  other  side — that  is, 
from  Panama  to  San  Francisco — making  in  all  about 
one  hundred  and  twenty-five  dollars  for  the  luxury 
of  a  voyage  to  San  Francisco. 

In  a  day  or  two,  I  was  able  to  stagger  about  the 
vessel  in  a  very  successful  manner,  considering  my 
means  of  perambulating,  and  on  the  first  Sunday  out 
— three  days  from  New  York — the  weather  being 
fine,  I  wended  my  way  forward  to  give  a  drink  of 
wine  to  a  sick  steerage-passenger,  and  it  was  on  that 


332  JOHN    SMITH    ON   A   CRUTCH. 

occasion  that  I  witnessed  a  very  amusing  scene  which 
I  shall  endeaver  to  describe. 

My  sick  friend  was  lying  on  the  hurricane  deck, 
shaded  by  an  awning,  and  very  near  him  were  four 
unchristian-like  passengers  engaged  in  the  absorbing 
game  of  "  seven-up."  About  that  time,  a  Methodist 
minister  came  over  from  the  cabin  to  conduct  a 
u  divine  service  "  or  two,  and  enlighten  the  benighted 
steerage  passengers  as  to  the  great  probability  of 
their  losing  their  immortal  souls. 

He  took  his  position  a  little  way  from  our  "seven- 
up"  party,  gave  out  a  text  from  memory,  and  pro- 
ceeded to  preach  the  gospel — during  which  the  game 
went  on — my  attention  being  divided  between  it  and 
the  sermon. 

"My  Christian  friends,"  began  the  minister,  "I 
would  have  you  know,  in  the  beginning,  that " 

["You're  bound  to  trump  or  follow  suit,  if  you 
have  it,"  interrupted  one  of  the  card-players.] 

" There  are  two " 

["  Trumps  !  by  jingo!"] 

" Spheres  of  existence  for  all  mankind.     First 

["  Whose  deal  is  it  ?"] 

" We  are  placed  on  earth  to " 

["  Play  for  a  quarter  a  game."] 

" Live  such  a  life  of  honesty,  integrity,  piety, 

and  godliness, " 


["  Confound  such  a  game  !"] 

That  when  we  come  to 

["  Deal  a  little  faster."] 


ho!  for  California!  333 

« Leave  the  scenes  of  our  earthly  labors,  and 

trials,  and  woes,  and  miseries,  we  may  be " 

["Skunked,  by  thunder!"] 

« Prepared  to  enter  upon " 

["  A  new  game."] 

« A  new  and  holy  existence  among 

["  Clubs  or  spades."] 

« The  angels." 

["  There !  he's  turned  a  jack  !"] 

"But  what,  my  thoughtless  friends,  what  will 
become  of  the  wicked  and  ungodly  man  who " 

["  Deals  all  the  time  I     That's  three  times  that  I 

know  of!"] 

« Persists  in  his  evil  ways  till " 

["  The  trump  is  turned."] 

« The  day  of  judgment?     What  will  be  the 

fate  of  those  who  refuse " 

["  Trump  three  times  !"] 

« The  offers  of  mercy,  and  reject  the  offered 

salvation  till  it  is  forever  too  late?  When  the 
awful " 

["  Trump !"] 

« Trumpet  shall  sound  and  they  are  summoned 

from  their  graves  to  answer  for " 

["Fifty  cents:  let's  play  another."] 

" The  deeds  done  in  the  body,  they  shall  be 

dumb  with  the  consciousness  of  their  guilt,  and  shall 

have " 

["  High,  low,  jack,  and  the  game !     Bun  'em."] 

« Their  part  in  the  lake  that  burnetii  with *" 

["  Spades."] 

« Fire  and  brimstone,  which  is  the " 


334  JOHN  SMITH   ON   A   CRUTCH. 

["  Third  game."] 

" Second  death  !" 

["  The  deuce.     I  thought  it  was  the  trey."] 

"  Now,  my  friends,  you  are " 

["High,  low,  to  our  jack,  game."] 

" Aware  of  the  uncertainty  of  life,  at  all  times, 

but  especially  at " 

["  Seven-up."] 

" Sea,  where  ships  may " 

["  Play  trump."] 

" Go  down  at  any  moment,  and  where  those 

on  board  may " 


["  Follow  suit."] 

" Be  hurled  upon  the  merciless  waters " 

["  Without  a  single  trump."] 

11 Without  a  straw  between  them  and " 

["  The  end  of  the  game."] 

" The  awful  judgment  seat !     What  would  be 

your  cry  then  ?" 

["  There  now !  play  the  square  game,  or  I  won't 
play  any  more !"] 

"  What  could  you,  who  are  unprepared  to  die,  say 
in  your  defense  ?" 

["  Twenty-nine  for  game."] 

"Nothing — simply  nothing.  You  could  only  turn 
away  in  shame  and  wretchedness,  and  cry " 

["  We're  out !  Fork  over  the  stamps  !  Don't  let's 
play  any  more ;  it's  about  dinner  time."] 

" Unto  the  rocks,  '  Fall  on  us  !'  and  unto  the 

hiils, (  Cover  us  !'  " 

["  That  makes  it  right.     I'm  just  a  dollar  ahead."] 

The  game  now  broke  up,  the  sermon,  for  lack  of 


ho!  for  California!  335 

variety,  began  to  lose  its  interest,  and  I  returned  to 
the  cabin  much  edified  by  the  preaching  and  that 
scientifically  played  game  of  "  seven-up." 

I  will  not  attempt  to  give  a  full  account  of  the 
incidents  of  the  voyage  from  New  York  to  Aspinwall 
— a  distance  of  nineteen  hundred  and  eighty -thr**o 
nautical  miles — but  will  conclude  this  chapter  by 
mentioning  the  death  of  a  middle-aged  lady,  who  died 
the  day  before  our  arrival  in  port.  She  had  been  ill 
of  pneumonia  for  some  days,  and  early  on  the  morn- 
ing in  question  she  breathed  her  last,  leaving  a 
sorrow-stricken  husband  and  eight  children  to  con- 
tinue the  voyage  and  life's  cheerless  journey,  without 
the  light  of  a  wife's  and  mother's  smile. 

The  children  were  all  small — the  oldest  not  more 
than  ten  years  old — and  were  not  able  to  realize  their 
loss  and  their  desolate  condition  ;  but  that  heart- 
broken man,  whose  haggard  face  and  dark  sunken 
eyes  I  can  never  forget,  mourned  enough  for  all. 
Every  innocent  prattle  of  the  motherless  ones  was  a 
thrust  into  his  stricken  heart,  and  if  they  did  not 
weep  he  wept  for  them. 

I  have  seen  many  horrible  sights,  such  as  the 
mangling  of  men  in  battle  ;  but  I  never  saw  any  thing 
so  calculated  to  make  the  heart  weep  as  the  sorrow 
of  that  lone-hearted  father  of  motherless  children. 
Never  can  I  forget  how  I  saw  him,  just  after  a  dull 
splash  aft  of  the  leeward  wheel  announced  that  the 
corpse  had  been  committed  to  the  deep,  come  languid- 
ly out  of  his  stateroom,  surrounded  by  his  wondering 
little  ones,  sit  down  on  the  deck  under  the  shadow  of 


336  JOHN   SMITH   ON  A   CRUTCH. 

a  companion-way,  bury  his  face  in   his  hands,  and 
weep  like  a  lone  and  friendless  child ! 

It  is  sad  to  see  a  woman  weep ;  but  when  a  strong 
man  sheds  tears  they  must  be  wrung  out  by  an 
anguish  of  soul  too  poignant  for  the  simple  name  of 
griefl 


ON   THE   ISTHMU3.  337 


CHAPTER     XLVI. 

On  the  Isthmus. 

T^ARLY  on  the  morning  of  the  ninth  day  from 
J_^  New  York  we  landed  at  Aspinwall,  New  Gra- 
/  nada,  United  States  of  Columbia.  The  eastern 
shores  of  this  country,  which  is  a  portion  of  Central 
America,  are  washed  by  the  Caribbean  Sea.  Aspin- 
wall is  composed  of  a  score  of  substantial  buildings, 
such  as  we  see  in  our  own  country,  and  a  few  hun- 
dred thatched  huts. 

A  few  Americans  and  Europeans  are  engaged  in 
business  there ;  but  it  might  be  suggested  that  the 
natives  are  the  chief  feature  in  the  population. 

These  natives  are  a  remarkable  people — a  true  type 
of  a  mongrel  race.  We  see  among  them  every  shade 
of  complexion,  from  the  hue  of  midnight  in  a  coal-pit 
to  that  of  wood  ashes  mixed  with  lime.  Having 
stated  that  they  are  a  mongrel  people,  it  is  but  proper 
to  say  what  races  they  are  composed  of,  as  nearly  as  I 
can  guess,  and  I  will  do  so  in  a  tabular  manner,  thus: 

Caucasian H  per  cent. 

American 194         u 

Mongolian 0  " 

Australian 1  « 

Arctic 0  " 

Malay q  « 

European 1  « 

Ethiopian 77  « 

Amounting  to  100 

22 


338  JOHN   SMITH    ON   A   CRUTCH. 

They  speak  the  Spanish  tongue :  how  well  I  am 
unable  to  jtidge.  as  I  am  unfamiliar  with  thai  lan- 
guage; but,  considering  the  general  character  of  the 
benighted  creatures,  it  is  fair  to  presume  that  they 
cold-bloodedly  murder  it. 

They  seldom  address  each  other  byname,  but  style 
each  other  Ilombre  (pronounced  almost  Umbra,  with 
a  frightful  quiver  on  the  "  r  ") :  which  is  equivalent 
to  "Fellow." 

As  I  before  remarked,  they  have  all  shades  of 
color;  and  I  will  add,  that  while  some  have  straight, 
black,  glossy  hair,  like  that  of  the  aborigines,  others 
"sport"  the  fearfully-"  kinked  "  article,  like  that  of 
the  pure  African. 

They  are  a  mean,  cowardly,  pusillanimous  set.  They 
cheat,  lie,  swear,  get  drunk,  steal,  murder,  etc.,  with 
great  nonchalance :  and  for  the  last-named  crime  their 
law  condemns  the  criminal  to  imprisonment — -for  one 
year. 

There  is  a  railroad,  belonging  to  an  American  com- 
pany, running  from  Aspinwall  to  Panama,  a  distance 
of  forty-seven  miles.  Panama,  it  will  be  remembered, 
is  on  the  Pacific  side  of  the  Isthmus.  In  this  connec- 
tion, I  will  remark,  that  persons  sometimes  find  it 
difficult  to  remember  which  of  the  two  cities,  Aspin- 
wall and  Panama,  is  on  the  Atlantic  side,  and  which 
on  the  Pacific.  A  rule  that  will  always  enable  one 
to  remember  it  is,  that  the  initial  letter  of  each  city 
is  the  same  as  that  of  the  ocean  on  whose  shore  it 
stands.  Aspinwall,  beginning  with  the  letter  A,  is  on 
the  Atlantic  side;  Panama,  with  P,  on  the  Pacific. 
No  one  will  forget  this. 


ON  THE    ISTHMUS.  339 

During  our  ride  in  the  oars  from  Aspinwall  to 
Panama,  we  saw  hundreds  of  natives — all  wearing 
about  the  same  appearance  as  those  in  Aspinwall. 
One  remarkable  feature  was,  that  their  children  were 
running  about  in  a  state  of  nudity  that  was  quite 
shocking  to  modest  persons.  Children  under  twelve 
years  wear  no  raiment  from  the  neck  down,  and 
usually  go  bare-headed.  Even  the  adult  male3  wear 
nothing  but  hat  and  breeches,  and  are  therefore  always 
in  trim  for  a  pugilistic  encounter.  Some  of  the  ladies 
wear  only  a  petticoat  and  a  cigar.  It  is  fashionable 
for  the  ladies  there  to  "  use  the  weed." 

Panama  is  a  much  larger  and  more  important  place 
than  Aspinwall.  Its  population  is  probably  ten 
thousand.  There  are  many  more  houses  of  respect- 
able appearance  there,  among  which  are  several  hotels. 
There  are  also  two  antiquated  Catholic  churches,  one 
of  which  is  said  to  be  nearly  two  hundred  years  old. 

A  dilapidated  old  wall  surrounds  the  city,  but  it 
would  prove  a  feeble  protection  against  a  civilized  navy. 

The  weather  is  extremely  hot  all  the  year,  the  tern- 
perature  never  falling  much  below  ninety  degrees 
Fahrenheit.  The  heat  is  not  so  extreme,  however, 
during  the  "rainy  season,"  which  comprises  our  fall, 
and  a  portion  of  our  summer  and  winter  months.  All 
kinds  of  tropical  fruits  grow  there  in  abundance.  I 
saw  oranges,  lemons,  limes,  bananas,  pineapples,  co- 
coanuts,  and  other  fruits,  on  the  trees. 

The  natives  obtain  these  fruits  by  merely  gathering 
them,  and  do  a  good  business  by  selling  them  to 
travelers,  at  prices  which,  though  lower  than  New 
York  prices,  are  there  considered  enormous. 


340  JOHN  SMITH  ON  A  CRUTCH. 

In  justice  to  these  natives,  T  will  say  that  travelers 
who  conduct  themselves  with  propriety,  are  always 
civilly  treated  by  them.  But  it  is  not  safe  to  injure 
or  abuse  them,  where  they  are  in  such  a  decided  ma- 
jority ;  for,  like  most  cowards,  they  are  brutal  and 
vicious,  and,  if  irritated,  do  not  hesitate  to  murder 
foreigners. 

Many,  no  doubt,  remember  the  terrible  riot  that 
occurred  in  Panama,  a  dozen  years  ago,  between 
foreigners  and  natives.  It  was  occasioned  by  one 
rascally  drunken  passenger,  who  managed  to  raise  a 
dispute  with  a  fruit-vender,  and  concluded  to  settle 
the  matter  by  knocking  over  the  fruit-stand  and 
shooting  at  the  owner.  Thus  it  originated:  the  na- 
tives making  an  assault  on  the  offender,  and  his  fellow- 
passengers  attempting  to  defend  him.  The  riot  soon 
became  general ;  and  the  military  of  the  New  Grana- 
dian  Government  being  called  out  to  quell  the  dis- 
turbance, did  so  by  wantonly  shooting  down  every 
white  man  that  came  in  their  way.  The  slaughter 
was  fearful.  It  should  be  a  warning  to  all  coarse 
and  reckless  fools,  like  the  originator  of  this  difficulty, 
who  do  not  know  how  to  conduct  themselves  with 
common  decency  in  a  foreign  country. 


THE   "GOLDEN  CITY."  341 


CHAPTER     XLVII. 
The  m  Golden     City." 

"TT  7E  embarked  at  Panama  on  the  steamer  u  Golden 

VV  Age,"  the  same  day  we  landed  at  Aspinwall, 
'  and  made  the  passage  to  San  Francisco  in  four- 
teen days — touching  at  the  ports  of  Acapulco  and 
Manzanillo,  Mexico — coaling  at  the  former  place. 
The  distance  from  Panama  to  San  Francisco  is  three 
thousand  two  hundred  and  sixty-seven  nautical  miles, 
according  to  the  record  of  our  run.  Manzanillo  is 
about  midway  between  the  two  places,  while  Acapulco 
is  about  three  hundred  miles  nearer  Panama. 

I  will  not  trouble  the  reader  with  the  details  of  this 
voyage,  but,  simply  stating  that  we  arrived  in  the 
grand  harbor  of  San  Francisco  early  in  May,  and  landed 
early  one  pleasant  Sunday  morning,  I  will  proceed 
to  tell  what  kind  of  place  it  is,  and  relate  what  befell 
the  redoubtable  John  Smith  there. 

First,  I  will  briefly  mention  the  peculiarities  of 
San  Francisco,  commencing  with — 

The  Climate. — In  San  Francisco,  as  well  as  along 
the  whole  coast  of  California  and  Oregon,  the  tem- 
perature of  the  air  does  not  vary  much  during  the 
year.  There  are  no  extremes  of  heat  or  cold.  The 
trade.  win<is  prevail  duriog.the  summer,  and  there  is 


842  JOHN    SMITH   ON   A   CRUTCH. 

no  rain  except  in  the  winter  months — the  period  of 
the  "  rain}'  season."  It  seldom  snows  or  freezes — and 
never  to  any  considerable  extent.  In  the  summer 
the  thermometer  seldom  indicates  a  higher  degree  of 
temperature  than  eighty.  This  would  be  rather  warm, 
but  for  the  steady  breeze  that  sweeps  in  from  the 
broad  Pacific. 

The  Harbor  of  San  Francisco  has  not,  probably, 
an  equal  in  the  world.  The  entrance  is  narrow,  and 
tall,  abrupt  hills  stand  guard  on  either  side.  This  en- 
trance is  termed  the  "  Golden  Gate.''  The  harbor  is 
large  enough  to  float  all  the  vessels  in  the  world ;  it 
is  adorned  with  several  picturesque  islands;  and  its 
shores,  where  not  occupied  with  buildings,  are  beauti- 
ful and  green,  except  on  the  south  side  near  the  en- 
trance, where  immense  heaps  (almost  mountains)  of 
sand  are  the  prevailing  feature. 

The  Population  was  fifty-six  thousand  in  1860, 
according  to  the  National  Census,  but  it  is  now  three 
times  as  great.  It  is,  of  course,  composed  of  people 
from  all  parts  of  the  world,  but  chiefly  from  the  United 
States.  A  large  proportion  of  the  population  are 
the  Chinese.  These  people  are  small  in  stature,  yellow 
in  color,  pagan  in  religion,  ingenious,  industrious, 
inoffensive,  cowardly,  low-lived,  filthy,  and  ugly  as 
toads — creatures  to  which  they  bear  a  striking  family 
resemblance.  They  work  at  any  and  every  thing, 
many  of  them  doing  housework,  washing  and  ironing, 
and  the  like.  I  remember  seeing  the  following  names 
of  "Orientals"  on  their  business  signs:  Wo  Hop, 
Hung  Gee,  Cum  Lum  Sam,  Sam  Lee,  Wo  Lee,  Wo 
Wing,  Ah  Sing,  Wing  Wo,  Yek  Wa.    These  dis. 


THE   "GOLDEN  CITY."  343 


tinguished  gentlemen  from  the  Orient,  (or  rather,  to 
one  in  California,  from  the  Occident)  were  all  exten- 
sively engaged  in  the  laundry  business.  There  are 
but  few  negroes  in  San  Francisco.  I  do  not  not  think 
I  saw  a  dozen  while  there. 

The  Money  in  circulation  in  the  "  Golden  City  " 
is  only  silver  and  gold.     No  paper  money  of  any  kind 

is  seen. 

Earthquakes  are  a  luxury  which  this  city  indul- 
ges in  occasionally.  We  had  one  gentle  shock  while 
I  was  there.  A  few  years  ago  they  were  favored  with 
one  that  did  much  damage,  and  scared  many  of  the 
inhabitants  out  of  a  year's  growth  :  and  in  October, 
1-63,  they  had  one  still  more  severe.  Slight  shocks 
are  quite  common. 

San  Francisco  is  one  of  the  greatest  fruit,  vegeta- 
ble, and  grain  markets  in  the  world. 

During  my  sojourn  in  San  Francisco,  I  was  em- 
ployed as  "Funny  Man"  of  a  well-known  literary 
paper,  the  "Golden  City;"  and  shortly  after  my 
arrival  I  published  an  article,  under  a  nom  de  plume,  in 
which  I  touched  up  some  of  the  peculiarities  of  the 
city  as  they  presented  themselves  to  me,  in  the  follow- 
ing manner: 

"  CAT'S-EYE  VIEW  OF  SAN  FRANCISCO.  BY  O.  JOB  JONES. 
"One  morning,  shortly  after  my  arrival  in  San 
Francisco,  I  strolled  out  to  take  a  view  of  the  city  as 
it  was  and  is— the  clerk  of  my  hotel  having  kindly 
informed  me  that  it  was  'piled  up  all  around  us.' 

"I  first  directed  my  steps  to  the  post-office,  where, 
making  my  way  up  to  the  'J'  window,  I  modestly 
inquired  if  there  was  any  letter  for  0.  Job  Jones? 


34-4  JOHN   SMITH   ON   A   CRUTCH. 

The  clerk  without  looking,  informed  me  that  there 
wasn't.  Wondering  how  he  found  it  out,  I  asked  if 
there  were  any  newspapers  ?  Yes,  wrong  as  it  was  to 
annoy  him  with  so  many  foolish  questions,  I  did." 

11  What  was  his  reply? 

"  I  will  tell  you. 

11  The  truth  of  the  matter  was,  the  steamer  hadn't 
been  in  more  than  twenty-four  hours,  and  the  papers 
had  not  yet  been  distributed.  This  the  clerk  might 
have  informed  me,  in  calm,  gentlemanly  and  compre- 
hensive language  :  but,  did  he?  No.  Such  a  course 
would  have  been  inconsistent  with  his  dignity.  Here's 
the  way  he  answered  me  ;  lie  says — and  that  in  a  rude 
tone  that  startled  me — says  he  : 

"  *  You'd  better  wait  till  they're  distributed 
first,  hadn't  you  !' 

"Abashed  and  mortified  at  this  exhibition  of  supe- 
rior greatness,  and  enjoying  a  full  sense  of  my  little- 
ness— my  comparative  nothingness — I  turned  away, 
trembling.  If  I  had  never  before  felt  that  I  was  but 
mortal,  I  felt  it  now — felt  it  sensibly,  deeply,  awfully, 
as  I  shrunk  from  the  stern  presence  of  this  great 
being. 

"  I  was  patient,  however.  I  remembered  that  the 
morning  was  a  little  damp;  and,  wishing  to  return 
good  for  evil,  I  informed  this  mighty  man  that  there 
was  a  more  genial  climate  located  somewhere — a 
climate  where  they  have  warm  weather  the  year 
round — and  recommended  his  emigration  thither  at 
once.  All  this  in  the  most  laconic  language  imagi- 
nable. 

"  The  Atheist  claims  that  there  is  no  Qo4 :  b\it  he.  is 


THE    "  GOLDEN    CITY."  345 

clearly  mistaken.  Just  let  him  go  to  tbat  post-office 
window  and  inquire  for  a  paper  or  letter  inopportune- 
ly, and  he  will  see  before  him  the  stern,  exalted 
countenance  of  as  fine  a  little  god  as  any  one  would 
wish  to  see.  Yulcan,  the  god  of  fire  ;  Mars,  the  god 
of  Avar;  Neptune,  the  god  of  the  deep;  and  Jupiter, 
the  great  big  god  of  all,  are  simply  nowhere,  com- 
pared with  that  pompous  and  pretentious  clerk  of 
the  P.  0. ! 

"  Full  of  these  thoughts,  I  wended  my  way  west- 
ward, towards  the  more  elevated  regions  of  the  city. 
I  had  not  gone  far  till  I  met  a  singular  being,  whose 
name  (I  have  since  learned)  was  John  Hung  Kee 
Dung  Kee  Lung  Kee  Mung  Kee  Choo  Bang.  This 
person,  I  understood,  constituted  a  considerable  por- 
tion of  the  population  of  San  Francisco.  The  most 
remarkable  feature  about  him  was,  that  he  didn't  re- 
semble anybody  else  I  had  ever  seen,  in  any  feature. 
His  color  was  a  mixture  about  half-way  between  that 
of  a  bay  colt  and  that  of  a  cream -colored  pony.  His 
nose  was  the  puggest  of  the  pug,  and  the  ugliest  of 
the  ugly.  He  wore  a  blue  cotton  petticoat  on  each 
leg,  and  a  black  shirt,  which  he  hadn't  the  decency  to 
stuff  in  anywhere.  He  had  a  pair  of  skates  on,  but 
the  iron  part  was  broken  off,  and  he  walked  on  the 
wood.  He  bad  no  hat  on,  but  his  head  was  tied  up 
in  a  piece  of  goods  such  as  they  make  black  cotton 
umbrellas  of.  He  had  no  hair  on  his  head  at  all,  ex- 
cept just  one  single  one  that  grew  out  at  the  back 
about  as  thick  as  a  corn-cob,  and  hung  down  to  his 
heels,  where  it  cams  to  a  point.  This,  I  fancied, 
would  be  very  convenient  to  hang  him.     He  appeared 


346  JOHN    SMITH    ON   A    CRUTCH. 

to  he  an  adult  male,  riot  younger  than  fifteen,  or 
older  than  forty-nine;  but  somewhere  along  about 
there. 

<;  I  have  been  informed  that  this  individual  was  im- 
ported in  large  numbers  from  a  little  island,  some- 
where in  the  Pacific,  called  China.  It  is  but  a  small 
island,  inhabited  by  only  a  few  hundred  millions  of 
these  people ;  so  they  can  never  do  much  harm  any- 
where. 

"As  I  walked  up  street,  I  was  a  little  surprised  to 
meet  a  house  on  its  way  down  to  the  post-office.*  It 
was  traveling  slowly,  to  be  sure;  but  it  looked 
smiling  and  happy,  and  even  intelligent.  I  am  in- 
formed that  when  a  man  gets  dissatisfied  with  the 
location  of  his  dwelling,  he  just  ties  a  rope  round  the 
door-knob  and  leads  it  away,  up  or  down  street,  to 
some  more  agreeable  vicinity,  like  a  man  leading  a 
horse  to  water  with  a  halter.  I  have  since  met  quite 
a  number  walking  about.  They  seem  quite  tractable 
and  docile,  and  will  follow  where  led,  just  like  a 
good-natured  elephant. 

"I  like  this  system  very  much.  I  cannot  help 
thinking  how  convenient  it  would  be  if  I  had  a  house 
up  iii  that  neighborhood  where  the  "John"  element 
prevails.  I  should  just  put  a  halter  on  and  lead  it 
away  a  mile  or  two  to-morrow  morning  before  break- 
fast. 

*  This  is  an  allusion  to  the  moving  of  buildings,  which  is 
carried  on  to  a  considerable  extent  in  San  Francisco.  It  is  no 
unusual  thing  there,  to  move  a  frame  building  as  much  as  a 
mile  when  the  owner  finds  it  profitable  to  sell  the  ground  it 
stands  on. 


THE    "  GOLDEN   CITY."  347 

*  I  like  several  things  about  San  Erancisco.  I  like 
its  "  fractional  currency  "  for  one  thing.  The  material 
it  is  printed  on  is  better  calculated  for  standing  all 
sorts  of  weather,  and  the  wear  and  tear  of  time,  than 
that  in  the  States.  Moreover,  it  is  not  near  so  likely 
to  be  repudiated,  and  enjoys  a  better  foreign  reputa- 
tion. 

11 1  like  the  ladies  here ;  they  have  but  one  fault. 
That  fault  is  similar  to  that  of  the  very  small  congre- 
gation that  turned  out  one  Sunday  morning  at  the 
church  I  used  to  attend.  There  were  not  more  than 
nineteen  of  us,  and  the  parson  scolded  us  for  an  hour 
because  we  didn't  turn  out  better.  It  wasn't  our 
fault  that  the  rest  didn't  come.  I'm  sure  I  was  all 
there.  So,  I  suppose  it  is  hardly  just  to  censure  the 
ladies  here  because  there  are  not  more  of  them;  it 
isn't  their  fault. 

"  I  am  also  pleased  with  the  elevated  points  around  ;* 
they  give  a  man  a  chance  to  rise  in  the  world,  with- 
out principle,  capital  or  reputation.  Besides,  one  of 
them  would  be  such  a  fine  start  for  a  monument. 
One  might  be  topped  out  on  Telegraph  Hill,  for  in- 
stance, with  very  little  expense;  and  in  a  graphic 
description  of  it,  it  might  be  stated  that  the  top  was 
five  hundred  and  twenty-three  feet' above  tide-water. 
No  allusion  need  be  made  to  the  bottom. 

"  Among  other  peculiarities  of  San  Francisco,  I  per 
ceive  that  the  blacking  of  boots  and  shoes  is  done  by 
grown-up    adult    men,   and    that   they   have    regular 

*  I  have  already  intimated  that  there  were  a  few  rough  hil'i 
in  this  vicinity.  There  are  streets  in  San  Francisco  which  it 
i£  difficult  to  ascend  without  ladders. 


348         JOHN  SMITH  ON  A  CRUTCH. 

establishments  for  the  accommodation  of  the  customer. 
This  is  a  grand  idea.  The  customer  not  only  has  a 
comfortable  seat  to  sit  in  while  his  brogans  are  being 
rubbed  down  and  shined  up,  bat  he  also  enjoys  the 
luxury  of  a  shelter,  which  is  ample  protection  against 
he  heavy  summer  rains  and  winter  snows,  which,  I 
believe,  prevail  very  extensively  here. 

11  Pardon  me  if  I  make  any  blunders  in  giving  my 
views  of  San  Francisco* 

"I  have  perceived,  in  the  course  of  my  perambula- 
tions, that  they  were  moving  Kearny  street  further 
up  the  hill.f  I  didn't  like  to  ask  any  questions  con- 
cerning it,  lest  I  should  be  considered  green  ;  but  I 
supposed  that  the  reason  was  that  it  had  slid  down 
at  the  time  of  the  earthquake  here,  a  few  years  ago. 

"  I  have  heard  so  much  about  the  rough  state  of 
society  here,  that  I  am  surprised  and  delighted  to  find 
that  law  and  order  are  as  strictly  observed  here  as  in 
any  city  of  the  States.  From  what  I  have  heard  in 
times  gone  by,  I  was  led  to  anticipate  that  I  should 
hear  a  bullet  whiz  every  time  I  should  step  from  my 
door,  and  that  I  should  find  a  fresh  dead  man  lying  at 
every  corner.  I  am  glad  to  find,  however,  that  the 
streets  are  entirely  clear  of  such  obstructions,  and 
that  men  are  not  killed  here,  except  in  cases  of  abso- 
lute necessity.  I  highly  approve  of  this  orderly 
state  of  things.  I  don't  deny  that  it  is  quite  a 
pleasant  pastime  to  a  new  beginner  to  help  kill  a  man 


*  As  the  reader  may  have  already  gathered,  they  have  no 
rain  in  summer  or  snow  in  winter. 

t  An  allusion  to  the  widening  and  improving  of  that  street. 


THE   M  GOLDEN   CITY."  349 

or  two  each  week ;  but,  as  is  the  case  with  every 
other  enjoyment,  the  novelty  soon  wears  off',  and  one 
gets  tired  of  it." 

I  carried  a  letter  of  introduction  from  a  gentleman 
in  Philadelphia  to  Mr.  J.  M.  Foard,  of  the  "  Golden 
City,"  San  Francisco,  and  was  very  cordially  re- 
ceived. 

"  Mr.  Foard,  I  said  one  day,  shortly  after  my  ar- 
rival, "  I  am  very  fond  of  the  water " 

"Not  as  a  beverage,  I  hope,"  he  interrupted. 

"JSTot  as  a  regular  beverage;  but  as  a  medium  of 
navigation.  I  love  riding  on  the  water.  I  would  like 
to  go  out  and  take  a  row." 

"Where?"  he  asked. 

II  On  the  harbor,"  I  replied. 
"Don't  do  it." 
"Why?" 

"  You  are  not  familiar  with  our  harbor.  It  is  an 
unsafe  one  for  an  inexperienced  boatman.  Even 
some  of  the  most  skillful  lose  their  lives.  It  may  be 
calm  and  smooth  as  a  river  one  moment :  the  next,  the 
tide  may  change,  the  wind  rise  against  it,  and  it  may 
become  so  boisterous,  all  at  once,  that  you  might 
imagine  it  was  ready  to  boil  over.  Don't  venture  out 
in  a  small  boat.  We  have  a  list  of  drownings  to  re- 
cord  every  week,  and  should  be  most  unhappy  to 
place  your  name  in  our  next  week's  list.  Don't 
go!" 

"  I  won't,"  I  replied,  fully  impressed  with  the 
dangers  of  the  harbor. 

I  meant  it. 

But — perfidious  as  it  was — I  afterward  basely  dis- 


350  JOHN   SMITH    ON  A   CRUTCH. 

regarded  the  advice  of  my  excellent  friend  Foard,  and 
justly  came  to  grief. 

Five  minutes  after  leaving  the  office  of  the  "  Golden 
City/'  I  met  two  fellow-passengers,  named  Gilmore 
and  Brooker — both  good  fellows,  and  fond  of  fun — 
the  latter  a  nephew  of  a  celebrated  "ornament  of  the 
stage,"  then  "drawing  houses"  in  San  Francisco. 

"  Smith,"  said  Gilmore,  "  suppose  we  take  a  ride 
somewhere?'' 

"Where?"  I  asked. 

"Any  where,"  said  he. 

"  Let  us  take  a  boat-ride,"  suggested  Brooker. 

u  The  very  thing !"  said  Gilmore. 

"  I  have  been  told,"  I  interposed,  "  that  the  harbor 
here  is  rather  dangerous,  and " 

"  0,  never  mind !  We  can  manage  a  boat  in  any 
harbor.     I  am  some  oarsman,  myself." 

"  There  can't  be  much  danger  with  three  of  us  to 
run  the  craft,"  remarked  Brooker.     "  Let  us  go  I" 

We  went. 

The  face  of  the  harbor  was  as  smooth  and  gentle  as 
that  of  a  "  sleeping  beauty,"  and  the  three  of  us  glided 
gracefully  out  from  one  of  the  piers — a  pair  of  oars,  in 
my  skillful  (?)  hands,  gently  dipping  into  the  unruf- 
fled waters  at  irregular  intervals.  The  friendly  warn- 
ing of  Foard  was  entirely  forgotten. 

O,  Foard  !  Thou  best  of  friends  I  Though  John 
Smith  may  be  wandering  thousands  of  miles  from  the 
happy  spot  where  thy  kind  face  first  smiled  a  wel- 
come to  him  in  a  strange  land,  yet  fresh  in  his  memory 
is  that  noble  and  pleasing  face,  as  on  the  day  thy 


THE    "  GOLDEN   CITY."  351 

warning  voice  said :  "  Don't  go  out  on  the  harbor, 
Smith  r 

The  air  is  usually  quiet  in  the  morning,  at  San  Fran- 
cisco, but  as  the  day  advances,  a  stiff  breeze  springs 
up,  and,  on  meeting  the  ebbing  tide,  stirs  up  the 
waters  of  the  harbor,  as  though  a  young  son  of  Nep- 
tune were  just  beneath  the  surface,  lashing  them  with 
his  toy-whip:  the  waterman  must  then  exercise  his 
utmost  strength  and  skill  to  navigate  with  safetv. 

We  had  not  proceeded  more  than  a  mile,  when  the 
tide  commenced  to  run  out,  the  wind  came  sweeping 
in  through  the  ':  Golden  Gate,"  and  the  waters  began 
to  evince  their  illest  humor. 

The  first  trifling  mishap  that  bcfel  us  was  that  a 
rough,  ill-natured,  foam-crested  wave  came  slashing 
along,  wrested  an  oar  from  my  hand,  and  left  it  float- 
ing on  the  "  briny  deep."  The  boat  became  un- 
manageable, turned  with  her  side  to  the  waves,  and 
lay  in  a  trough  of  the — harbor. 

In  endeavoring  to  recover  the  truant  oar,  Gilmore 
pitched  out  into  the ''yeast  of  waves;"  and,  in  en- 
deavoring to  recover  him,  by  means  of  his  coat-tail,  / 
pitched  out ;  and,  in  endeavoring  to  save  himself  from 
the  same  fate,  Brooker  pitched  out ;  and  there,  with 

"  Nothing  save  the  waves  and" — us, 
and  the  boat,  (half-full  of  water,)   we  commenced  a 
manly  and   awkward  struggle  for  existence.     With 
this  boon  in  view,  Gilmore   clung   to   the   oar,  and 
Brooker  and  T  to  the  boat. 

By  this  time,  the  wind  was  blowing  with  actual 
fierceness,  and  the  waves  swept  clear  over  our  heads 
every  second.     There   can  be  little  doubt  that  we 


352  JOHN   SMITH   OX   A    CRUTCH. 

would  all  have  found  an  eternal  nest  among  the  slimy 
harbor- weed,  with  only  the  monsters  of  the  shallow  to 
drop  a  (crocodile)  tear  upon  our  "moist,  uncomforta- 
ble bodies,"  but  for  certain  timely  "  succor  M  that  ap- 
peared on  the  scene  at  this  critical  juncture.  The 
said  "succor"  comprised  two  skillful  oarsmen,  who 
owned  the  boat,  and,  having  seen  that  we  managed  it 
poorly,  and  fearing  the  loss  of  their  property,  had  put 
out  to  our  assistance  some  minutes  prior  to  the  start- 
ling accident — arriving  just  in  time  to  save  their  boat 
(and  us)  from  an  aqueous  tomb. 

They  hauled  us  and  the  lost  oar  aboard  their  own 
boat,  like  so  many  packages  of  damaged  goods,  (flotsam 
Blackstone  would  have  styled  us,)  took  the  other  boat 
in  tow,  and  started  for  shore, — giving  us  a  good  round 
cursing  for  our  awkwardness  in  so  nearly  sacrificing 
their  property. 

I  never  told  Foard  of  this  adventure  till  about  two 
months  had  elapsed,  and  it  had  got  a  little  "  old." 
Then,  having  first  exacted  a  promise  from  him  that 
he  would  not  scold  me  for  what  I  was  about  to  tell 
him,  frankly  confessed  the  whole  affair,  bringing  out 
all  the  little  extenuating  points,  such  as,  "The  morn- 
ing was  so  fine,"  "  The  harbor  was  so  smooth,"  "  We 
thought  that  three  of  us  could  surely  manage  one 
boat."  "  We  had  partaken  of  fluid  refreshments," 
11  We  hadn't  seen  each  other  for  several  days,  and  felt 
so  jolly  glad,"  et  cetera. 

He  did  not  break  his  promise  :  but 

"Smith,"  said  he,  "if  I  had  not  promised  not  to 
scold  you,  I  would  give  you  the  (blank)est  black- 
guarding any  man  ever  got  in  San  Francisco !     To 


THE   "GOLDEN   CITY."  853 

think  that,  in  the  very  face  of  the  good,  healthy  ad- 
vice I  gave  you,  you  should  have  the  unparalleled  au- 
dacity to — Well,  never  mind:  I  promised  not  to 
scold :  but  if  you  ever  do  such  a  thing  again — I 
wonder  what  time  it  is  ?  I  feel  dry." 
/  didn't,  the  Jay  I  pitched  out  of  the  boat. 


23 


854  J0H>~   SMITH  ON  A  crutch. 


CHAPTER    XLVIII. 

The    Doctor. 

PEAR  reader,  before  bidding  adieu  to  San  Fran 
cisco,  let  your  one-legged  ffiend  introduce  you 
to    a   noble    citizen  of  that   cosmopolitan   city, 
whom,  for  the  sake  of  a  name,  shall   be   styled  Dr. 
Charles  Rowell  of  Kearny  street. 

Let  us  call  this  chapter  an  imaginary  sketch  of 
what  might  be,  what  has  been,  and  what  will  be. 
Let  us  suppose  your  friend  John  Smith  on  a  crutch 
to  be  only  mortal :  let  us  suppose  him,  after  all,  an 
ordinary  object  for — 

"  The  slings  and  arrows  of  outrageous  fortune," 
as  well  as  subject  to — 

"  The  heart-ache  and  the  thousand  natural  shocks 
That  flesh  is  heir  to  :" 

let  us  suppose  him  a  human  being  who  eats,  drinks — 
yes,  drinks! — -sleeps,  and  indulges  in  other  like  amuse- 
ments, and  let  us  suppose  him  susceptible  of  suffering, 
when  the  means  of  these  enjoyments  are,  by  any 
chance,  temporarily  withheld.  Let  us  even  suppose 
that  he  may  be  "broke,"  sick,  and  "in  a  strange 
land,"  all  at  once.  Let  us  suppose  that  the  "  Panama 
Fever,"  which  is  "  no  respecter  of  persons  "  may  lay 
bold  of  him  on  any  proper  occasion,  and  let  us  sup- 


THE    DOCTOR.  355 

pose  that  poverty  which  is  another  "  no-respecter-of- 
persons,"  may  happen  to  pay  him  a  friendly  visit 
about  the  same  time.  Let  us  suppose  both  visitors 
going  hand  in  hand  and  calling  on  John  Smith  at  the 
same  time  at  his  lodging-house  in  San  Francisco. 

In  asking  the  reader  to  assume  all  this,  I  do  not 
positively  assert  that  such  things  did  actually  happen 
to  John  Smith  himself,  in  this  connection,  but  I  can 
testify  to  the  substantial  truth  of  what  I  am  about  to 
relate,  and  it  is  no  harm  to  make  use  of  Mr.  Smith  as 
an  actor. 

I  have  heard  a  good  deal  said  about  angels :  but  as 
no  one  now  living  can  prove  to  the  satisfaction  of  the 
public  that  he  ever  saw  one,  the  personal  appear- 
ance  and  general  traits  of  their  characters  can  be  but 
matters  of  conjecture. 

We  are  inclined,  however,  when  speaking  or  think- 
ing  of  an  angel,  to  fancy  it  a  lovely  creature— whether 
male  or  female,  I  cannot  say— of  fair  complexion, 
blue  eyes  and  light  curling  hair,  and  clothed  in  a  long 
white  robe,  with  the  hue  of  the  "driven  snow  "—the 
handsome  toes  just  peeping  out  from  beneath  the 
lower  folds.  In  addition  to  this,  we  fancy  a  pair  of 
gentle  wings  protruding  from  the  shoulder  blades. 
These,  however  useful,  when  the  angel  happens  to  be 
in  a  hurry,  are  rather  calculated  to  detract  from  the 
handsome  outline  of  a  line  figure,  in  case  the  fashiona- 
ble clothing  of  the  present  day  should  be  used,  instead 
of  the  robe.  I  believe  that  every  reader  will  readily 
comprehend  me,  without  my  going  to  the  trouble  to 
say  that  the  wings  alluded  to,  if  covered  with  a  neat 
dress  coat,  (or  other  fashionable  garment,)  would  give 


356  JOHN   SMITH   OX  A   CRUTCH. 

the  wearer  a  lamentable  appearance  of  being  hump- 
backed. 

Such,  however,  are  not  my  ideas  of  an  angel.  Aa 
we  cannot  know,  positively,  what  shape  we  are  to 
assume  after  leaving  the  scenes  of  our  present  exist- 
ence, I  have  selected  my  beau  ideal  of  an  angel  from 
among  the  sons  of  men.  The  angel  I  shall  describe 
has  a  handsome,  manly,  noble,  genial,  smiling  face; 
the  calm  gray  eyes  twinkle  with  merriment  and  good 
nature  ;  a  heavy  black  beard  flows  from  the  lower  half 
of  the  countenance;  the  brow  is  one  of  the  intelligent 
order,  the  hair  is  dark  ;  the  figure  is  full  and  strong, 
and  dressed — not  in  a  flowing  white  robe — but  in 
black  pantaloons,  vest  and  frock-coat,  actually  made 
by  a  corporeal  tailor.  For  the  latter  article  of  clothiug, 
while  the  owner  lounges  easily  in  his  neat  office,  dur- 
ing hours  of  leisure,  might  be  substituted  a  dressing- 
gown.  At  such  times,  too,  place  a  common  brier- 
wood  pipe  in  the  hand,  and  the  figure  of  my  angel 
is  complete. 

Such  was  Doctor  Howell,  whose  image,  but  poorly 
portrayed  here,  may  well  supersede  the  bright  one  of 
the  winged  angel  in  the  fancy  of  John  Smith. 

John  Smith  being  in  San  Francisco;  without  em- 
ployment; attacked  with  a  return  of  Panama  Fever 
contracted  on  the  Isthmus;  suffering  a  natural  depres- 
sion of  spirits;  withal,  in  "reduced  circumstances;" 
and  being  of  too  delicate  a  nature  to  apply  to  friends, 
— although  he  had  some  there  who  would  have 
rushed  to  his  assistance  with  a  relish — came  to  the 
melancholy  conclusion  that  the  best  thing  he  could 


THE    DOCTOR.  357 

do,  sad  as  it  was,  was  to  enter  the  City  Hospital  for — 
say — an  indefinite  period. 

With  this  view,  he,  languid,  pale  and  emaciated, 
walked  into  the  office  of  a  physician — walked  into 
che  same  office  on  a  crutch — to  ask  for  information  as 
to  the  measures  to  be  resorted  to  in  order  to  gain  ad- 
mittance to  the  City  Hospital. 

This  physician  chanced  to  be  the  man  whom  we 
style  Dr.  Charlie  Rowell.  This  was  the  angel,  who, 
unlike  the  popular  augel  with  robe  and  wings,  wore 
a  common  black  suit,  a  smile,  a  merry  twinkle  of  the 
eye,  and  carried  a  pipe  in  his  hand,  at  which  he  took 
occasional  deliberate  whirls. 

"Sit  down,"  he  said  to  the  one-legged  young  man. 

The  latter  seated  himself  on  a  sofa. 

11  You  are  the  Doctor  ?" 

"T.at's  what  they  call  me,"  answered  the  physi- 
cian, cheerfully.  Then  he  took  a  calm  whiff  of  that 
pipe,  and  deliberately  sat  down  in  a  rocking-chair. 

Smith  would  have  remarked  that  the  weather  was 
fine,  but  he  remembered  that  the  weather  is  always 
pleasant  in  San  Francisco.  So,  he  switched  off  on  an 
other  subject — the  subject — and  said : 

"  Doctor,  I  have  simply  come  in  to  ask  for  a  little 
information.  I  am  a  stranger  here,  and  I  suppose  you 
can  tell  me  what  I  desire  to  know." 

"What  is  that?" 

"I  wish  information  as  to  the  means  of  gaining  ad- 
mittance to  the  City  Hospital." 

"  Why  do  you  want  to  go  to  the  hospital  ?" 

"Because,  I  am  quite  unwell,  have  no  immediate 
business  prospects,  and  am  nearly  broke." 


358        JOHN  SMITH  OX  A  CRUTCH. 

u  What  seems  to  be  the  mutter  with  you  ?" 

"  Something  like  ague." 

"  Have  you  come  through  Panama  lately  ?" 

"Yes,  I  only  landed  here  a  week  or  two  ago.  I 
have  not  felt  quite  well  since  my  arrival,  and  since  I 
fell  out  of  a  boat  in  the  harbor  the  other  day  and  got 
wet,  I  have  felt  worse." 

After  some  discussing  of  symptoms,  the  Doctor 
said : 

"You  have  what  is  called  Panama  Fever.  But 
that's  nothing.     Where  did  you  lose  your  leg?" 

"  In  the  army." 

"  Well,  it  is  not  necessary  for  you  to  go  to  the  hos- 
pital. It  would  be  a  hard  place  for  you  to  go  to,  any 
how,  and  I  cannot  allow  it.  Do  not  be  discouraged. 
It  is  nothing  here  for  new-comers  to  find  themselves 
pecuniarily  reduced.  Such  things  happen  every  day. 
A  great  many  persons  are  arriving  here  now,  and 
many  of  them  come  with  but  little  spare  means.  As 
numbers  do  not  get  into  business  so  soon  as  they 
hope,  the  result  is  very  natural.  Now,  as  for  your- 
self, if  you  suppose  that  I,  who  can  easily  cure  you  in 
a  short  time,  would  sit  here  with  my  arms  folded, 
smoking  my  pipe,  and  see  you  go  into  the  hospital  for 
want  of  treatment,  and  that,  too,  after  you  have  lost 
a  limb  in  the  service  of  your  country,  I  must  say  that 
it  speaks  poorly  for  your  discernment  of  human 
character.     I  should " 

"But  I  am  almost  without  means,  and " 


"Well,  suppose  you  are?  Jam  not.  You  shall 
not  go  into  the  hospital ;  you  shall  accept  medicine 
from  me ;  you  shall  also  allow  me  to  see  that  you 


THE    DOCTOR.  359 

want  for  nothing  in  the  way  of  living  till  you  are 
well  and  succeed  in  getting  into  business." 

"But,  Doctor,  it  would  not  be  right  for  me  to " 

"  Excuse  me  one  moment,"  interrupted  the  Doctor, 
rising  and  going  into  another  room. 

When,  after  a  brief  absence,  he  returned,  it  was 
with  several  small  packages  of  medicines  in  his  hand 
with  "  directions  "  pasted  on  them. 

11  Take  these  with  you  to  your  lodging-house,  and 
come  in  and  see  me  to-morrow." 

"But  how  can  I,  consistently " 

11  Come,  now,  after  I  have  prepared  the  medicines 
for  your  particular  case,  you  would  not  surely  refuse 
them,  and  thus  render  them  useless." 

"  Yery  well,  Doctor,  I  will  take  them ;  but  re- 
member that  I  do  not  accept  them  gratuitously. 
That,  however,  does  not  lessen  your  kindness  iu 
offering  them.  I  will  accept  treatment  at  present,  but 
it  must  be  with  the  understanding  that  I  am  to  pay 
you  as  soon  as  I " 

"  Have  more  money  than  I  have,"  interrupted  the 
Doctor. 

On  arriving  at  his  lodging-house,  and  entering  his 
room,  the  owner  of  the  packages  began  to  examine 
them.  One  was  a  small  vial  with  a  brandy-colored 
liquid  in  it,  and  a  label  on  instructing  the  patient  to 
indulge  in  a  certain  number  of  drops  at  certain  in- 
tervals. Another  was  a  small,  round  paper  box, 
which  rattled  in  such  a  way  as  to  entirely  preclude 
the  idea  of  its  containing  any  thing  else  than  pills. 
A  label  on  this  box  suggested  to  the  afflicted   the 


360  JOHN   SMITH   ON   A   CRUTCH. 

expedience  of  enveloping  one  of  them  in  his  stomach 
each  evening  about  bed-time. 

A  third  box,  however,  was  a  puzzle.  It  was  like 
the  second  in  size,  was  heavier,  did  not  rattle,  and 
bore  the  following  astounding  directions : 

"Use  According  to  Judgment." 

What  could  this  mean?  How  should  the  patient 
know  what  rules  to  observe  in  the  use  of  this  box  of 
"medicine,"  limited  as  was  his  knowledge  of  the  art 
of  Esculapius  ?  Still,  it  would  do  no  harm  to  open 
the  box  and  see  what  manner  of  medicine  it  con- 
tained. 

This  proceeding  being  carried  out,  developed  the 
fact  that  it  contained  several  hard,  shiny,  yellowish, 
metallic,  button-shaped  "pills,"  wrapped  in  paper, 
each  containing  the  following  strange  inscription : 

"  ACIREMA  FO  SETATS  DETINU.      LOD  EVIF." 


A  STARTLING  BUNDLE.  861 


CHAPTER    XLIX. 

A    Startling   Bundle. 

TT"  AELY  one  Monday  morning  in  August,  after  a 
j-ly  sojourn  of  about  three  months  in  San  Francisco, 
/  in  the  course  of  which  I  had  been,  on  the  whole, 
rather  prosperous  than  otherwise,  I  was  sitting  in  the 
office  of  the  "  Golden  City,"  when  I  suddenly,  with- 
out knowing  why,  conceived  the  idea  of  returning  to 
"  the  States."  The  steamer  Nevada,  of  the  "  Oppo- 
sition Line,"  was  to  leave  for  Panama  on  the  ensuing 
Wednesday ;  and  I  walked  down  to  the  office  of  the 
company  and  bought  a  ticket — being  just  in  time  to 
secure  the  last  stateroom. 

The  astonishment  and  sadness  of  my  numerous 
friends — for  by  this  time  there  were  two  full  semi- 
circles of  them  in  San  Francisco — on  learning  of  this 
rash  act,  were  a  source  of  mingled  amusement  and 
pain  to  me.  I  half  regretted  what  I  had  done,  and 
if  I  had  not  already  purchased  my  ticket,  I  should 
have  relinquished  the  idea  of  going.  But  the  die 
was  cast,  and,  concealing  from  them  the  regret  I  felt, 
I  lightly  reminded  them  that  they  too  well  knew  that 
"  When  I  took  a  notion  to  go  to  an}'  place,"  I  was 
moderately  certain  to  go. 

Not  till  the  steamer  floated  away  from  the  pier, 


362  JOHN    SMITH    ON   A   CRUTCH. 

amid  the  cheers  and  blessings  of  several  thousand 
spectators,  and  I  saw  the  waving  hands,  huts,  and 
handkerchiefs,  and  heard  the  friendly  farewells  of  a 
score  who  had  come  to  see  me  off',  and  of  hundreds 
who  had  come  to  bid  other  passengers  adieu,  did  I 
fully  realize  that  I  was  leaving  the  city  I  had  so  soon 
learned  to  love — again  starting  on  a  long  journey  of 
more  than  five  thousand  geographic  miles.  When  I 
did  realize  it,  it  was  with  a  depth  of  sadness  I  cannot 
describe :  and  had  I  not  been  a  man,  I  think  I  should 
hardly  have  subdued  that  moisture  of  the  eyes  that  is 
looked  upon  as  an  evidence  of  weakness — though  it; 
is  sometimes  a  noble  and  heavenly  weakness ! 

The  voyage  to  Panama,  in  the  course  of  which  we 
put  in  at  Manzanillo,  Mexico,  for  coal,  occupied  four- 
teen days.  Much  space  might  be  absorbed  with  a 
full  description  of  it ;  but  it  would  be  scarcely  perti- 
nent. Let  us  close  our  eyes  on  the  voyage,  imagine 
a  lapse  of  two  weeks,  and  we  find  the  good  steamer 
Nevada  quietly  anchored  at  early  morn  in  the 
picturesque  harbor  of  Panama,  New  Granada.  There 
are  no  piers  for  the  accommodation  of  large  vessels  at 
Panama,  so  that  ocean  steamers  must  anchor  three 
miles  from  shore,  in  the  deep  water,  and  be  relieved 
of  their  cargoes  and  passengers,  or  loaded  therewith, 
by  means  of  lighters  and  small  steamboats. 

We  rose  from  our  berths  on  the  morning  the  Nevada 
anchored  in  the  harbor  of  Panama,  elated  with  the 
prospect  of  crossing  the  Isthmus  and  taking  another 
steamer  at  Aspinwall  for  New  York.  It  was,  there 
fore,  somewhat  to  our  chagrin  that  we  learned  that 
an  accident  had   happened   the  connecting   steamer, 


A   STARTLING   BUNDLE.  363 

Pakotah,  that  although  due  at  Aspinwall  five  or  six 
days  previously,  she  had  barely  arrived,  and  that  we 
must  lie  at  Panama  and  wait  till  she  should  have 
discharged  her  cargo.  The  prospective  delay  was 
variously  estimated  by  the  officers  at  from  "a  few 
days,"  to  "  some  little  time." 

The  natives  learned  that  we  were  to  lie  in  the 
harbor  for  some  days,  and  soon  flocked  about  the 
steamer  in  small  boats,  offering  to  convey  to  shore  all 
who  wished,  to  visit  the  rusty  old  city.  The  price 
they  asked  was  cuarto  rialos  per  head — which  means 
half-a-clollar. 

Many  of  us  took  advantage  of  this  means  of  escap- 
ing from  the  confinement  of  the  vessel,  and  in  an 
hour  or  two  the  greater  portion  of  the  steamer  Neva- 
da's u  population  "  might  have  been  seen  intermingled 
with  the  inhabitants  of  benighted  Panama.  Promi- 
nent  among  those  who  visited  the  city  might  have 
been  seen  the  owner  of  a  certain  crutch. 

It  was  now  the  "  rainy  season,"  but  the  heat,  be- 
tween the  showers  that  visited  us  daily,  was  intense 
and  oppressive.  To  counteract  its  effects,  the  thirsty 
Caucasians  resorted  to  certain  iced  drinks,  containing 
stimulants,  which  were  to  be  had  at  the  saloons  at 
twenty-five  cents  (coin)  each.  I  regret  to  chronicle 
the  fact  that  many  of  them  used  these  beverages  to 
an  extent  rather  calculated  to  engender  thirst  (next 
morning)  than  to  allay  it. 

As  the  shades  of  evening  began  to  fall  over  the 
tropics,  three  persons,  Monsieur  Figaro,  a  Frenchman; 
Mr.  Ilawes,  an  Englishman ;  and  I,  John  Smith,  Esq., 
an  Americo-Caucasian,  wended  their   way  down  'a 


364  JOHN   SMITH    ON   A   CRUTCH. 

street  of  Panama,  with  the  intention  of  taking  a  small 
boat  at  the  beach,  and  returning  to  the  steamer 
Nevada. 

Now,  at  the  lower  end  of  this  street,  near  the  arch- 
way in  the  city's  wall,  affording  an  outlet  to  the 
beach,  there  is  a  certain,  saloon  with  the  alluring 
name  of  "  Oregoxian  Siiades."  The  proprietor  is 
an  intelligent  native,  about  the  color  of  new  leather 
who  speaks  both  Spanish  and  English. 

When  we  had  come  over  to  Panama,  that  morning, 
there  was  in  u  our  crowd"  a  humorous  and  witty  pas- 
senger named  Briggs;  but,  in  the  course  of  the  day, 
we  had  lost  sight  of  him,  and  I  just  glanced  in  at  the 
"Oregoniau  Shades,"  as  we  passed,  deeming  it  possi- 
ble that  he  might  be  there ;  and  hoping  for  the 
pleasure  of  his  company,  together  with  that  of  my 
French  and  English  friends,  to  the  steamer.  Mr. 
Briggs  was  not  there ;  but  there  was  within  a  lady 
passenger  of  the  Nevada,  who  was  one  of  the  most 
remarkable  persons  I  ever  met.  This  lady,  whose 
husband  was  also  a  passenger,  was  about  twenty- 
eight  years  old,  five  feet  four  inches  high,  and 
weighed  two  hundred  and  ten  pounds.  Her  width 
may  be  imagined.  To  add  that  she  was  inclined  to 
embonpoint,  would  be  rather  mild  language.  She  was 
obviously  of  Irish  birth  and  parentage :  but  whatever 
I  may  have  occasion  to  say,  of  her  personal  merits  or 
demerits,  must  not  be  construed  into  any  invidious 
insinuations  against  her  nationality,  for  I  am  not  pre- 
judiced against  the  Irish,  but  rather  in  their  favor, 
claiming  that,  everything  fairly  considered,  they  pos- 
sess as  many  noble  traits  as  any  other  people. 


A   STARTLING  BUNDLE.  865 

This  corpulent  lady  was  not,  I  regret  to  say,  in  a 
rational  mood.  She  had  visited  Panama  early  in  the 
day,  in  the  company  of  her  husband— a  big,  ill-look- 
ing, muscular  American — who  had  become  intoxica- 
ted during  the  day  and  basely  deserted  her.  His 
name  was  Philip— somebody — and  he  was  termed 
"  Pheel"  by  the  lady  in  question,  whose  accent  was 
peculiar.  When  I  have  stated  that  Mrs.  "  Pbeel," 
however  temperate,  was  not  of  the  total  abstinence 
"stripe,"  but  rather  given  to  the  moderate  use  of 
aqueous  stimulus,  and  that  she  had  not  departed  a 
hair's  breadth  from  her  principles  on  the  day  in  ques- 
tion, I  think  that  the  intelligent  reader  will  not  fail 
to  comprehend  the  true  state  of  things. 

"Hombre,"  said  I,  addressing  the  proprietor  of  the 
Oregonian  Shades,  as  I  looked  in,  "  have  you  seen  the 
gentleman  with  side-whiskers  who  was  in  here  with 
us  to-day,  and  whom  we  called  Briggs  ?" 

"  Not  since  two  o'clock,"  replied  Hombre. 

At  this  moment  Mrs.  "Pheel"  started  up  from  her 
seat  like  one  excited. 

"  Hov  ye  seen  Pheel?"  she  eagerly  asked. 

11  I  have  not,  madam,"  I  replied. 

"  Och,  he's  lift  me!"  she  exclaimed,  throwing  her- 
self back  into  her  seat,  and  dropping  two  of  five 
bundles  of  goods  she  had  been  buying. 

This  was  too  much  for  me.  My  sympathies  were 
aroused  in  a  moment.  I  knew  by  Philip's  complex- 
ion that  he  was  a  drinking  man,  and  here  was  the 
patient  and  gentle  wife  anxiously  awaiting  bis  return 
to  the  "  Oregonian  Shades."  Can  it  be  wondered  at 
that,  meantime,  hot  weather,  corpulence,  anxiety,  and 


366  JOHN   SMITH    ON   A   CRUTCH, 

general  depression  of  spirits  all  taken  into  considera- 
tion, she  bad  not  sat  there  all  that  time  dying  of 
thirst,  while  the  means  of  allaying  it  were  before 
her?  Not  rationally.  The  proprietor  afterward  in- 
formed me  that  she  had  "drank  nothing  but  ale :" 
how  much,  he  could  not  undertake  to  compute. 

11  Probably,"  said  I,  to  the  deserted  woman,  as  I 
stepped  in  and  gently  picked  up  her  bundles  for 
her,  "  Philip  has  taken  a  little  too  much,  and  forgot- 
ten you.     You  had  better  return  to  the  steamer." 

"Is  he  in  there?"  asked  my  English  companion  at 
the  door. 

"Who?— Briggs?" 

"  Yes." 

"  No,  he  is  not :  but  here  is  a  lady  whom  you  have 
seen  on  the  steamer,  and  who  has  lost  sight  of  her 
husband.     Had  she  not  better  return  with  us?" 

"I  suppose  so." 

"  Well,  madam,"  said  I,  "  we  are  going  back  to  the 
steamer  now  ;  will  you  come  with  us  ?  Phil  will  be 
all  right.     No  doubt  he  is  there  by  this  time." 

11  Och,  Mr.  Smith,  ye  won't  desart  me,  will  ye  !"  she 
exclaimed,  letting  two  more  bundles  fall. 

Mr.  Smith  !  she  actually  called  me  by  name !  That 
she  knew  my  name  I  was  not  aware.  How  she  had 
learned  it  was  a  mystery  to  me;  but  it  was  more 
marvelous  still  that,  having  learned  so  strange  and 
rare  a  name,  she  remembered  it ! 

"No,  madam,"  said  I,  "you  shall  go  with  us  to  the 
ship.  Come."  And  I  gallantly  picked  up  her  two 
bundles  and  restored  them  to  her  fulsome  arms. 

By  this  time  Monsieur  Figaro  was  looking  over 


A   STARTLING   BUNDLE.  367 

Mr.  Hawes's   shoulder  at  the  door,  and  I  fancied  I 
saw  him  smile.     It  may  have  been  imagination. 

"  Come,  madam,"  said  I,  "  we  are  going  down  to 
hire  a  boat  immediately.     Will  you  go  with  us  ?" 

"Och!     Indadel  wull !" 

She  now  rose — being  very  little  taller  standing 
than  when  sitting — dropping  all  her  bundles  but  one. 

I  picked  up  all  but  one. 

"  Come,  let  us  go." 

It  was  now  fully  dark. 

Somewhat  to  my  chagrin,  this  charming  and  confi- 
ding creature  grasped  my  gallant  arm,  as  a  support ; 
and  we  all  started  for  the  beach. 

With  the  care  of  two  hundred  and  ten  unsteady 
pounds  on  my  arm,  and  I  walking  on  a  frail  crutch, 
I  confess  that  I  experienced  a  difficulty  in  traveling 
to  the  beach  which  I  did  not  acknowledge  at  the 
time. 

On  the  way  to  the  boat,  my  voluptuous  companion 
dropped  all  her  bundles,  one  by  one,  and  they  were 
promptly  picked  up,  taken  care  of,  and  carried  after 
us,  by  a  little  native  with  nothing  but  a  hat  on — 
whose  attention  and  fidelity  I  generously  rewarded 
with  a  silver  half-dollar  on  arriving  at  the  water's  edge. 

I  will  not  take  it  upon  myself  to  say  that  Mrs. 
(tPheel"  had  drank  too  much,  as  I  should  not  wish 
to  do  her  the  slightest  injustice  :  it  may  have  been 
the  extreme  heat  of  the  climate  ;  it  may  have  been 
her  obesity ;  it  may  have  been  her  anxiety  ;  it  may 
have  been  that  she  was  not  blessed  with  a  strong  con- 
stitution ;  it  may  have  been  all  or  part  of  these  com- 
bined that  governed  her  conduct:  but  certain  it  is, 


368  JOHN  SMITH   ON  A   CRUTCH. 

that  Mrs.  "  Pheel,"  acted  strangely  and  unlike  a  lady 
at  the  beach.  Some  little  delay  was  occasioned  there, 
by  the  fact  that  the  native  who  engaged  to  take  us  to 
the  steamer,  had  to  go  and  hunt  up  his  partner ;  and 
during  the  interval,  Mrs.  "Pheel"  not  only  talked 
strangely,  walked  strangely,  and  bore  herself  in  an 
unaccountable  manner;  but  actually  became  unreason- 
able, unmanageable,  and  even  pugnacious.  She  first 
opened  our  eyes  by  declaring  that  we  were  going  to 
rob  her,  and  adding : 

"  Bedad,  I'll  make  Pheel  put  a  head  on  yez  all !" 

This  was  somewhat  startling  to  me,  as  I  had  one 
head  that  suited  me  very  well,  and,  with  my  means  of 
perambulating,  did  not  desire  to  be  encumbered  with, 
another. 

11  Madam,"  I  remonstrated,  "  I  pray  that  you  will 
be  quiet.  'We  are  your  friends,  and  you  are  welcome 
to  go  with  us  to  the  steamer.     I  hope " 

"  Where's  my  fan  ?"  she  interrupted,  springing 
with  some  abruptness  to  a  new  theme  of  conversa- 
tion. 

"  I  do  not  know.     Have  you  lost  one  ?" 

"  Bedad  some  one's  sthole  it,"  she  vociferated. 

By  this  time  a  dozen  natives  had  collected  on  the 
beach,  and  were  viewing  the  female  Caucasian  with 
mingled  wonder  and  amusement. 

Mr.  Hawes  was  sitting  on  an  old  spar  at  this  time, 
calmly  fanning  himself  with  a  palm-leaf  fan  he  had 
carried  all  day.  The  object,  at  this  unfortunate 
moment,  caught  the  eye  of  Mrs.  Pheel. 

"  Ye  Haggard  ye  I"  she  fairly  screamed,  staggering 


A   STARTLING   BUNDLE.  369 

clumsily  toward  the  startled  Englishman;  "ye  hov 
me  fan  !     Bad  lack  to  ye,  ye  divil  I     Give  me  that  I" 

Without  waiting  for  a  word  of  remonstrance  from 
Mr.  liawes,  she  dealt  him  a  blow  on  the  cheek  bone 
that  sent  him  backward  over  the  spar,  with  his  feet 
elevated  in  the  night  air;  and,  at  the  same  time,  stag- 
gered, herself,  whirled  round  and  fell  prostrate  on 
the  rough  stones  and  sand  of  the  beach. 

She  was  actually  crazy.  She  screamed,  struggled 
convulsively,  swore  a  few  regular  brimstone  oaths, 
then  lay  a  little  while  apparently  insensible,  and 
gasping  as  though  she  were  in  a  retort  and  the  air 
had  suddenly  been  pumped  away. 

By  this  time,  quite  a  concourse  of  curious  natives 
had  collected  around  us. 

After  an  apparent  death-struggle  of  three-quarters 
of  a  minute,  she  actually  ceased  to  breathe,  and  I 
feared  she  was  dead.  I  took  her  ample  wrist  in  my 
hand  and  there  was  not  the  slightest  perceptible  pulsa- 
tion. Here  was  a  go!  Here  was  a  fix  for  John 
Smith!  Night;  foreign  county ;  a  dead  woman  on 
the  beach ;  only  two  of  my  race  present,  and  they 
scared  like  the  deuce;  surrounded  by  a  score  or  two 
of  the  swarthy,  blood-thirsty  natives  of  a  semi-bar- 
barous land  !  0,  how  I  wished  that  crutch  of  mine 
were  but  clicking  on  the  side-walk  in  front  of  Trinity 
church,  New  York;  or  the  State  House,  Philadelphia. 
But  no,  there  I  was;  and  the  gloom  of  night,  mingled 
with  the  black  faces  of  vicious  and  cowardly  ruf- 
fians, frowned  on  me.     0,  Smith  !     Smith  ! 

What   was  to  be   done  ?     What   could  be   done  ? 
Fortunately,  the  boat  was  soon  after  ready,  and  I 
U 


€>70  JOHN   SMITH    OX   A    CRUTCTI. 

thought  the  best  thing  we  could  do  would  he  to  have 
the  "body"  put  aboard,  and  take  it  along.  My  com- 
panions concurred.  But  how  should  we  get  it  into 
the  boat?  The  quickest  way  was  to  hire  the  natives; 
so,  I  spoke  to  them.  In  my  extremity,  I  remembered 
that  but  a  small  proportion  of  those  present  could 
speak  English,  so  I  endeavored  to  address  them  with 
a  mixture  of  both  English  and  Spanish.  As  nearly 
as  I  can  recollect,  1  thus  spoke  to  any  and  all  of 
them,  individually  and  collectively: 

"  Sombre  J  Signorl  Carryo  this  hero  fatwomana 
into  boato  for  cuarto  rialos  !     Do  you  mind  f 

It  appears  they  comprehended  me,  for  eight  of  them, 
in  view  of  half-a-dollar  each,  laid  hold  of  the  "form" 
and  proceeded  to  carry  it  into  the  boat.  It  was  in- 
deed a  clumsy  burden.  Yet  they  conveyed  it  to  the 
boat  on  scientific  principles.  The  following  was  the 
programme:  any  anatomist  will  readily  comprehend: 

Two  of  the  Hombres  supported  their  share  of  the 
weight  by  locking  hands  beneath  the  glutseus  maximi ; 
two  others,  in  like  manner,  supported  the  clavi-  les, 
coracoid  pi'Ocess  and  acromion  of  scapula,  the  humeri, 
ulna,  radius,  et  cetera,  besides  the  sternum  and  latissimi/s 
dorsi  ;  two  others  supported  the  tibia,  fibula,  gastrocne- 
mius, tib'alis  anticus  and  extensor  communis  digitorum; 
the  seventh  supported  the  base  of  tibia,  astragalus, 
peronxus  tertiv.s,  abductor  minimi  digiti,  and  exOnsor 
2'oVicis  jiroprius ;  while  the  eighth  took  charge  of  the 
occip'to-frontalis  temporalis,  os  frontis,  paritlal  and  orbi- 
cularis palpebrarum. 

Thus  they  conveyed  the  inanimate  form  to  the 
small  boat ;  but  they  were  just  on  the  point  of  "dump- 


A   STARTLING   BUNDLE.  371 

ing"  it  in,  when  it  returned  to  consciousness,  opened 
its  eyes  and  mouth,  breathed,  and  was  uuoe  mure 
Mrs/"  Phoel." 

"Murther!"  was  the  first  articulate  sound  of  the 
resuscitated. 

"Hush,  my  good  woman,"  I  implored.  "You  are 
all  right  now.     We  are  starting  for  the  steamer." 

Thereupon,  she  opened  her  mouth  and  uttered  a 
series  of  screams  that  rm.de  the  night  hateful,  and 
causes  me  to  shudder  yet,  when  I  think  of  them. 
The  substance  of  them  was: 

"  Murther  !  Murther  !  Murther  !  Robbery! 
Robbery  !  Help  !  Police  !  Watch  !  Watch  I 
Police!  Murther!  Murther!  Watch!  Help  I 
Help!  Help!  Murther!  Murther!  Murther' 
Police!  Police!  Police!  Och !  ye  bloody  divilsl 
Murther!     Murther!     Murther!" 

This,  however,  is  but  an  abridged  edition  of  the 
original.  For  five  minutes — every  one  seeming  like 
an  age — she  continued  to  scream  in  this  manner, 
making  the  old  walls  of  Panama  to  resound  as  with 
the  voices  of  all  the  fiends. 

Had  this  happened  at  the  piers  of  any  civilized 
town  or  city,  the  gens-tVarmes  would  soon  have  been 
down  upon  us  and  arrested  the  whole  party;  but  as  it 
was,  we  were  not  molested,  and  much  to  our  relief,  at 
last  succeeded  in  getting  clear  of  shore,  and  we  glided 
away  toward  the  steamer  in  the  dim  darkness,  with 
our  baleful  charge. 


372  JOHN    SMITH    OX    A   CIJUTCH. 


CHAPTER     L. 
Exit    Smith. 

T?  NOUGII.  I  need  not  tell  of  our  arrival  at  the 
\—J  steamer;  of  the  trouble  the  sailors  had  getting 
/  the  drunken  woman  up  the  gang-ladder;  of  our 
meeting  Briggs  there;  of  his  suggesting,  while  they 
were  tugging  away  at  the  again  insensible  creature, 
pulling  her  up  step  by  step,  to  "  send  for  the  bag/jaje- 
master"  as  the  proper  person  to  take  charge  of  the 
immense  bundle  ;  of  our  lying  in  the  harbor  five  days; 
of  my  meeting  drunken  "  Pheel "  in  Panama,  the  day 
after  our  adventure  with  his  charming  bigger  half; 
of  his  threatening  to  "punch  a  hole  through"  me 
with  a  sword-cane,  for  "  running  away  with "  his 
gentle  wife — the  proprietor  of  the  Oregonian  Shades 
having  told  him,  on  inquiry,  that  "  she  went  away 
with  that  one-legged  fellow  ;" — of  our  final  crossing 
the  Isthmus  ;  of  our  embarking  at  last  on  fhe  crippled 
Dakotah  ;  of  our  tedious  vogage  of  fourteen  days, 
Prom  Aspinwall  to  New  York  ;  of  the  various  events 
o;;  the  passage;  of  the  death  and  burial  at  sea  of  a 
bright  little  boy,  who  had  eaten  too  much  tropical  fruit ; 
of  our  suffering  for  cold  water — there  being  no  ice  on 
board  the  miserable  ship;  of  our  poor  food,  and  but 
little  of  it — being  restricted  to  two  meals  a  day ;  of  the 


EXIT     SMITH.  373 

machinery  giving  out  off  the  coast  of  Cuba,  and  our 
danger  of  not  being  able  to  reach  any  port;  of  our 
being  towed  by  a  bark,  to  whom  we  showed  a  signal 
of  distress;  of  a  fire  on  board,  which  was  happily  ex- 
tinguished; of  a  hard  blow  off  Cape  Hatteras  ;  of  our 
final  arrival  in  New  York :  et  cetera,  and  all  that. 

It  is  proper,  in  this  chapter,  to  make  some  disposi- 
tion of  myself,  as  writers  usually  do  of  their  principal 
characters  in  the  concluding  chapter.  Therefore,  pre- 
pare to  bid  John  Smith  an  everlasting  farewell. 

To  wind  up  by  stating  that  I  got  married  to  a  beau- 
tiful heiress,  after  the  usual  stern  opposition,  but  final 
consent  of  her  stony-hearted  old  "  parient,"  and  that 
I  settled  down  after  rav  rambles,  and  lived  to  a  °Teen 
old  age,  would  be  a  very  happy  termination;  but  the 
events  narrated  are  of  too  recent  occurence,  and 
■would  appear  like  anachronisms.  So,  I  must  abandon 
that  idea. 

Still,  I  must  make  some  disposition  of  myself,  for 
if  the  reader  is  allowed  to  suppose  me  still  perambu- 
lating over  the  world  with  the  inevitable  Crutch,  he 
will  feel  that  he  has  not  yet  read  the  conclusion  of 
my  story,  and  will  look  forward  t)  the  publication  of 
a  supplementary  volume  of  adventures,  similar  to 
these — look  forwar  ',  I  heartily  assure  him,  only  to 
be  bitterly  disappointed.  Linger  over  this  volume, 
gentle  reader,  for  when  you  have  laid  it  down  you 
will  hear  of  John  Smith,  the  man  of  the  Crutch,  no 
more.     He  is  a  dead  letter. 

But  now  for  that  disposition.  This  remarkable 
character  must  be  got  rid  of  some  how.  But  how? 
I  can  think  of  no  end  for  him  so  fittino-  as  death. 


374  JOHN    SMITH    ON    A   CRUTCH. 

So,  clear  reader,  as  T  have  abandoned  the  idea  of 
concluding  with  an  ace  ant  of  my  marriage;  as  death 
is  a  circumstance  of  almost  as  much  importance  n 
one's  history ;  and  as  I  am  supported  in  this  course 
by  eminent  precedent — Moses  having  given  a  graphic 
account  of  his  own  death  in  Deuteronomy  ;  and  as, 
moreover,  this  may  be  read  years  hence,  when  the 
hand  that  is  writing  it  lias  indeed  grown  cold,  and  the 
pen  fallen  from  its  weary  grasp,  (and  when  there  will 
be  a  vacant  crutch  to  let,)  I  will  conclude  by  simply 
statins  that  I  died. 


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Life  axd  Public  Services  of  Abraham  Lin\ 

cols.  (In  both  the  English  and  German  language  )  As  a  record  of  this  great 
man  it  U  a  most  desirable  work,  admirably  arranged  for  reference,  with  aa 
index  over  each  page,  from  which  the  reader  can  familiarize  himself  with  »he 
contents  by  glaucing  through  it.  By  Frank  Crosbt,  of  the  Philadelphia  Bar. 
With  Portrait  on  steel.     Cloth.    $1  75. 

Life  of  Daniel  Boone,  the  Great  Western 

Hl'xtrr  and  Pioneer.  Comprising  graphic  and  authentic  amounts  of  his  daring, 
thrilling  adventures,  wonderful  skill,  coolness  and  sagacity  under  'he  most  haz- 
ardous circumstances,  with  an  autobiography  dictated  by  himself  By  Cecil  B. 
Hartlet.     With  Illustrations.     Cloth.     $1  75. 

Life  of  Colonel  David  Crocket,  the  Oriv 

ginal  Hcmorist  and  Ikreprkssible  Backwoodsman.  Showing  his  strong  will 
and  indomitable  spirit,  his  bear  hunting,  his  military  services,  his  career  in  Con- 
gress, and  his  triumphal  tour  through  the  States— written  by  himself;  to  which 
is  added  the  account  of  his  glorious  death  at  the  Alamo.  With  Illustrations. 
Cloth.    $1  75. 

Life  of  Kit  Carson,  the  Great  "Western 

Hunter  and  Gcide,  An  exciting  volume  of  wild  and  romantic  exploits,  thrilling 
adventures,  hair-breadth  escapes,  daring  coolness,  moral  and  physical  courage, 
and  invaluable  services — such  as  rarely  transpire  in  the  history  of  the  world. 
By  Charles  Burdett.     With  Illustrations.     Cloth.    $1  75. 

Life  of  Captain  John  Smith,  the  Founder 

of  Virginia.  The  adventures  contained  herein  serve  to  denote  the  more  noble 
and  daring  events  of  a  period  distinguished  by  its  spirit,  its  courage,  and  its  pas- 
sion, and  challenges  the  attention  of  the  American  people.  By  W.  Gilmorb 
Simms.     With  Illustrations.     Price  $1  75. 


Life   of    General  Francis  Marion,   the 

Cklbbratkd  P  ..;san  Hero  of  the  Revolution.  This  was  one  of  the  most 
distinguished  n  wiic  ..-..-...  .z  -r  rrand  theatre  cf  war  during  tho  times  that 
"tried  men's  so  .' V  and  his  brn.l:^  career  Has  scarcely  a  parallel  in  Mawcy. 
&y  Crcu.  B.  fijuiriST.    With  Illustrations.    Clou.    31  75. 


NEW  AND  LATE  BOOKS.  5 

Life  of  General  Andrew  Jackson",  the 

Celkb rated  Patriot  axd  Statesmax.  The  character  here  shown  as  firm  in  will, 
clear  in  judgment,  rapid  in  decision  and  decidedly  pronounced,  sprung  from  com- 
parative obscurity  to  the  highest  gift  within  the  power  of  the  American  people, 
and  Is  prolific  in  interest.    By  Alexander  Walker,    $1  75. 

Life  and  Times  of  General  Sam  Houston, 

the  Hcxter,  Patriot,  axd  Statesmax.  It  remi nds  one  of  the  story  of  Romulus— 
who  was  nurtured  by  th6  beasts  of  the  forest  till  he  planted  the  foundations  of  a 
mighty  empire — and  stands  alone  as  an  authentic  memoir.  With  Maps,  Portrait, 
and  Illustrations.     Cloth.     $1  75. 

Lives  of   the   Three  Mrs.   Judsons,  the 

Celebrated  Female  Missionaries.  The  domestic  lives  and  individual  labors  of 
these  three  bright  ftars  in  the  galaxy  of  American  heroines,  who  in  ministering 
to  the  souls  of  heathens,  experienced  much  of  persecution.  By  Cecil  B.  H  artlet. 
With  steel  Portraits.     Cloth.     $1  75. 

Life  of  Elisha  Kent  Kane,  and  of  Other 

DisTixarisHED  Ami-ricax  Explorers.  A  narrative  of  the  discoverers  who  pos- 
sess the  strongest  hold  upon  public  interest  and  attention,  and  one  of  the  few 
deeply  interesting  volumes  of  distinguished  Americans  of  this  class.  By  SamukIj 
M.  Schmccker,  LL.  D.     With  Portrait  en  steel.     Cloth.    $1  75. 

The  Life  and   Adventures   of   Pauline 

Ctshmax,  the  Celebrated  I  xiox  Spt  axd  Scoct.  Stirriug  details  from  the  lipa 
of  the  subject  herself,  whose  courage,  heroism,  and  devotion  to  the  old  fl3g,  en- 
deared her  to  the  Army  of  the  Southwest.  By  F.  L  Sarmiexto,  Esq.,  Member 
of  the  Philadelphia  Bar.  With  Portrait  on  steel  and  Illustrations  on  wood. 
Cloth.    $1  75. 

Jefferson  Davis  and  Stonewall  Jackson: 

The  Life  axd  Public  Services  of  Each.  Truths  from  the  lives  of  these  men, 
both  of  whom  served  their  country  before  the  war,  and  afterwards  threw  them- 
selves into  the  cause  of  the  South  with  unbounded  zeal — affording  valuable  bis- 
tori©  facts  for  all,  North  and  South.    With  Illustrations.    Cloth.    $1  76. 


6  NEW  AND  LATE  BOOKS. 

Corsica,  and  the  Early  Life  of  Napoleon. 

Delicately  drawn  idyllic  descriptions  of  the  Island,  yielding  new  light  to  political 
history,  exciting  much  attention  in  Germany  and  England,  and  altogether  making 
a  book  of  rare  character  and  value.  Translated  by  Hon.  E.  Jot  Moasis.  With 
Portrait  on  Bteel.    Cloth.    $1  75. 


The  Horse  axd  his  Diseases:  Embracing 

HIS  IllSTORT  AXD  VARIETIES,  BREEDING  AXD  MaXAOEMEXT,  AXD  V ICES.      A  splendid, 

complete,  and  reliable  book — the  work  of  more  than  fifteen  years'  careful  study — 
pointing  out  diseases  accurately,  and  recommending  remedies  that  have  stood  the 
test  of  actual  trial.  To  which  is  added  "Karbt's  Method  or  Traixixq  Horses." 
By  Robert  Jesxixgs.Y.  S.   With  nearly  one  hundred  Illustrations.    Cloth,    fl  75. 


Sheep,  Swine,  and  Poultry.    Enumerating 

their  varieties  and  histories;  the  best  modes  of  breeding,  feeding,  and  managing; 
the  diseases  to  which  they  are  subject ;  the  best  remedies — and  offering  the  best 
practical  treatise  of  its  kind  now  published.  By  Robert  Jexsuigs,  V.  S.  With 
numerous  Illustrations.     Cloth.     $1  75. 

Cattle  and  their  Diseases.     Giving  their 

history  and  breeds,  crossing  and  breeding,  feeding  and  management ;  with  the 
diseases  to  which  they  are  subject,  and  the  remedies  best  adapted  to  their  cure; 
to  which  is  added  a  list  of  remedies  used  in  treating  cattle.  By  Robert  Jrjt- 
yiXGS,  V.  S.    With  numerous  Illustrations.    Cloth.    $1  75. 

Horse  Training  Made  East.     A  new  and 

practical  system  of  Teaching  and  Educating  the  Horse,  including  whip  training 
and  thorough  instructions  in  regard  to  shoeing— full  of  information  of  a  useful 
and  well-tested  character.  By  Robert  Jexsixgs,  V.  S.  With  numerous.  IUae- 
trations.     Cloth.     $1  25. 

600  Eeceipts  Worth  their  Weight  in  Gold. 

An  unequalled  variety  in  kind,  the  collection  and  testing  of  which  have  extended 
\hrough  a  period  of  thirty  years — a  number  of  them  having  never  before  appeared 
la  print,  while  all  are  simple,  plain,  and  highly  meritorious.  By  J  ok*  ILl>* 
oc  AST,  of  Lebanon  Pa,    Cloth.    $1  75. 


NEW  AND  LATE  BOOKS.  T 

500    Employments    Adapted    to    "Women. 

Throwing  open  to  -womankind  productive  fields  of  labor  everywhere,  and  afford- 
ing full  opportunity  to  select  employments  best  adapted  to  their  tastes— all  the 
result  of  over  three  years'  constant  care  and  investigation.  By  Miss  Yibgutca 
Penhy.    Cloth.    $1  75. 

Everybody's  Lawyer  and  Book  op  Forms. 

The  simplicity  of  its  instructions,  the  comprehensiveness  of  its  subject,  and  the 
accuracy  of  its  details,  together  with  its  perfect  arrangement,  conciseness,  attrac- 
tiveness and  cheapness  make  it  the  most  desirable  of  all  legal  hand-books.  By 
Fbaxk  Crosby,  Esq.  Thoroughly  revised  to  date  by  S.  J.  Vahdebsloot,  Esq. 
60S  pp.    Law  Style.    $2  00. 

The    Family    Doctor.     Intended  to  guard 

against  diseases  in  the  family  ;  to  furnish  the  proper  treatment  for  the  sick ;  to 
impart  knowledge  in  regard  to  medicine*,  herbs,  and  plants  ;  to  show  how  to  pro- 
serve  a  sound  body  and  mind,  and  written  in  plain  language,  free  from  medical 
terms.   By  Prof.  Hekey  Taylob,  M.  D.    Profusely  Illustrated.    Cloth.    $1  75. 

The  American  Practical  Cookery  Book. 

A  faithful  and  highly  useful  guide,  whose  directions  all  can  safely  foll»w,  making 
housekeeping  easy,  pleasant,  and  economical  in  all  its  departments,  and  based 
upon  the  personal  test,  throughout,  of  an  intelligent  practical  housekeeper.  Illus- 
trated with  Fifty  Engravings.    Cloth.    $1  75. 

Modern  Cookery  in  all  its  Branches.  De- 
signed to  interest  and  benefit  housekeepers  everywhere  by  its  plain  and  simple 
instructions  in  regard  to  the  judicious  preparation  of  food,  and  altogether  a  work 
of  superior  merit.  By  Miss  Eliza  Acton.  Carefully  revised  by  Mrs.  Sabah  J. 
Hale.     With  many  Illustrations  and  a  copious  Index.     Cloth.    $1  75. 

Thirty  Years  in  the  Arctic  Beguons.    The 

graphic  narrative  of  Sir  John  Franklin,  the  most  celebrated  of  Arctic  Travellers, 
in  which  Sr  John  tells  his  own  story-unsurpassed  for  intense  and  all-absorbing 
\uterest-sketching  his  three  expeditions,  and  that  part  of  tbe  fourta  ao* 
shrouded  iu  mystery  to  the  world.    Cloth.    $1  75. 


I  NEW  AND  LATE  BOOKS. 

Explorations    and    Discoveries    duress 

Fora  Years'  WaiMOMM  m  the  Wild.-?  of  Socthwf.steh.v  Afkica.  Impor,.r..i 
and  exciting  experiences,  full  of  wild  adventure  and  Instructive  facts,  wh.fi 
seetn  to  possess  a  mysterious  charm  for  every  mind,  and  in  which  the  spiri  o 
intelligent  and  adventurous  curiosity  is  everywhere  prominent.  By  Chaalsv 
Johk  AJTDER80K.     With  Illustrations.     Cloth.     $1  75. 

Livingstone's  Travels  and  Researches  in 

Soi'th  Africa.  Given  in  the  pleasing  language  of  Dr.  Livingstone,  and  rich  in  'a. 
personal  adventures  and  hair-breadth  escapes  of  that  most  inderatigable  ditco- 
verer  and  interesting  Christian  gentleman— making  a  work  of  special  value.  By 
David  Livijiostosb,  LL.  D.,  I>.  C.  S.     Profusely  Illustrated.     Cloth.     $1  74. 


Travels  and  Discoveries  in  Xorth  and 

Ce.xtral  Africa.  Recounting  an  expedition  undertaken  under  the  auspices  o. 
H.  B  M.'s  Government,  exhibiting  the  most  remarkable  courage,  perseverance, 
presence  of  mind,  and  contempt  of  danger  and  death,  and  immensely  important 
as  a  work,  of  information.  By  Hewry  Barth,  Ph.  J).,  D.  C.  L.,  etc.  With  Illa*- 
trations.     Cloth.     $1  75. 

Ellis'  Three  Visits  to  Madagascar.  Writ- 

ten  in  Madagascar,  while  on  a  visit  to  the  queen  and  people,  in  which  is  carefuil~ 
described  the  Bingularly  beautiful  country  and  the  manners  and  customs  of  -U 
people,  and  from  which  an  nnusual  amount  of  information  is  obtainable.  By  Ber. 
Willia*  Ellis,  F.  H.  S.    Profusely  Illustrated.    Cloth.     $1  75. 

Oriental  and  "Western  Siberia.  A  Stir- 
ring narrative  of  6even  years'  explorations  in  Siberia,  Mongolia,  the  Kirgher 
Bteppes,  Chinese  Tartary,  and  part  of  Central  Asia,  revealing  extraordinary  facts, 
■bowing  much  of  hunger,  thirst,  and  perilous  adventure,  and  forming  a  work  o» 
rare  attractiveness  for  every  reader.  By  Thokas  William  Atki^soj.  Witi 
numerous  Illustrations.     Cloth.     $1  75. 

Hunting  Scenes  in  the  "Wilds  of  Africa. 

Thrilling  adventures  of  daring  hunters — Cummings,  Harris,  and  othars — amonr 
the  Lions,  Elephants,  Giraffes,  Buffaloes,  and  other  animals— than  which  few.  '4 
•ay  works,  are  more  exciting.    With  numerous;  Illustrations.    Cloth.    $ 1  76. 


NEW  AND  LATE  BOOKS.  t 

Hunting  Adventures  in  the  Northern 

Wilds.  A  tramp  in  the  Chateaugay  Woods,  over  hills,  lakes  and  forest  streams, 
at  a  time  when  millions  of  acres  lay  in  a  perfect  wilderness,  affording  incidents, 
descriptions,  and  adventures  of  extraordinary  interest.  By  S.  H.  Hamhukd. 
With  Illustrations.     Cloth.    $1  75. 


"Wild  Southern  Scenes;  or,  Sporting  Ad- 

ventcres  with  the  Rifle  and  the  Rod.  Affording  remarkably  interesting  expe- 
riences in  a  section  where  the  howl  of  the  "Wolf,  the  scream  of  the  Panther,  and 
the  hoarse  bellow  of  the  Moose  could  be  heard — presenting  a  racy  book.  By 
S.  H.  Hamxobd.    With  Illustrations.    Cloth.    $1  75. 


Perils  and  Pleasures  of  a  Hunter's  Life; 

ob,  The  Roma.ncb  op  Hunting.  Replete  with  thrilling  incidents  and  hair-breadth 
©scapes,  and  fascinating  in  the  extreme,  while  depicting  the  romance  of  hunting. 
By  Pbbegbisb  Hernb.    With  Illustrations.    Cloth.    $1  75. 

Hunting  Sports  in  the  "West.    An  amount 

of  novelty  and  variety,  of  bold  enterprise  and  noble  hardihood,  of  heroic  daring 
and  fierce  encounters,  which  seem  to  be  much  more  entertaining  by  the  qaiet  fi re- 
side than  they  would  be  to  the  one  going  through  them  in  the  forest  or  field.  By 
Cecil  B.  Uabtlet.     With  numerous  Illustrations.    Cloth.    $1  75. 

Fanny  Hunter's   Western  Adventures. 

Vividly  portraying  the  stirring  scenes  enacted  in  Kansas  and  Missouri  during  a 
sojourn  of  several  years  on  the  Western  Border,  and  fully  representing  social 
and  domestic  affairs  in  frontier  life — containing  curious  pictures  of  character. 
With  Illustrations.    Cloth.    $1  75. 

Wonderful  Adventures,  by  Land  and  Sea, 

of  the  Seven  Qceeb  Travellers  who  Met  at  an  Inn.  Revelations  of  a  singular 
and  unusually  entertaining  character,  in  which  the  most  terrible  circumstanees 
and  mysterious  occurrences  are  faithfully  aud  forcibly  placed  before  the  i 
By  Joiua  Bajutu.    Cloth.    $1  75. 


10  NEW  AND  LATE  BOOKS. 

Nicaragua;  Past,  Present,  and  Future. 

Setting  forth  its  history,  the  manners  and  cuRtoms  of  its  inhabitants,  its  iniaes, 
Its  minerals,  and  other  productions,  and  throwing  light  upon  a  subject  of  very 
great  importance  to  the  masses  of  our  people.  By  Peter  F.  Btoct,  Esq.,  lata 
U.  S.  Vice-Consul.     Cloth.    $1  75. 

Female  Life  Among   the   Mormons  ;    or, 

Maria  "Ward's  Disclosures.  Romantic  Incidents,  bordering  or  the  marvelous, 
which  show  the  evils,  horrors,  and  abominations  of  the  Mormon  system — the 
degradation  of  its  females,  and  the  consequent  vices  of  its  society.  By  Maria 
Ward,  the  Wife  of  a  Mormon  Elder.  With  Illustrations.  40,000  copies  sold. 
Cloth.     $1  76. 

Male  Life  Among  the  Mormons.   Detailing 

sights  and  scenes  among  the  Mormons,  with  important  remarks  on  their  moral 
and  social  economy  ;  being  a  true  transcript  of  events,  viewing  Mormonisra  from 
a  man's  standpoint,  and  forming  a  companion  to  the  preceding  volume.  By 
Austin  N.  Ward.    Edited  by  Maria  Ward.    With  Illustrations.    Cloth.    $1  75. 

Pioneer  Life  in  the  "West.    Describing  the 

adventures  of  Boone,  Kenton,  Brady,  Clark,  the  Whetzels,  the  Johnsons,  and 
others,  in  their  fierce  encounters  with  the  Indians,  and  making  up  a  work  of  the 
most  entertaining  and  instructive  character  for  those  who  delight  in  history  and 
adventure.    With  numerous  Illustrations.    Cloth.    $1  75. 

Thrilling  Stories  of  the  Great  Kebel- 

lion.  Fearful  adventures  of  soldiers,  scouts,  spies,  and  refugees  ;  daring  exploits 
•f  smugglers,  guerillas,  desperadoes,  and  others ;  tales  of  loyal  and  disloyal 
women;  stories  of  the  negro,  and  incidents  of  fun  and  merriment  in  camp  and 
field.  By  Lieut.  Charles  S.  Greene,  late  of  the  U.  S.  Army.  With  Illustrations 
in  Oil.    Cloth.    $1  75. 

History  of  the  "War  in  India.    Furnishing 

the  complete  history  of  British  India,  together  with  interesting  and  thrilling  details 
which  have  scarcely  a  parallel  in  the  world's  history,  to  which  is  added  a  memoir 
of  General  Sir  Henry  Havelock.  By  Henry  Fredbricb:  Malcolm.  IHaatrtici 
with  numerous  Engravings.     Cloth,     tl  75. 


RARE  BOOK 
COLLECTION 


THE  LIBRARY  OF  THE 

UNIVERSITY  OF 

NORTH  CAROLINA 

AT 

CHAPEL  HILL 


Wilmer 
572 


